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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24066550">Love In The Line Of Duty</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWhoICouldFollow/pseuds/OneWhoICouldFollow'>OneWhoICouldFollow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Depression, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Hugs, Minor Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protectiveness, Romantic Tension, Self-Doubt, Slow Build</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:26:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>70,593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24066550</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneWhoICouldFollow/pseuds/OneWhoICouldFollow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader is a Sindarin Elf female and a member of Thranduil's kingsguard - but can she shield and protect him from himself?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Thranduil (Tolkien)/Reader, Thranduil (Tolkien)/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>214</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>252</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This came from a prompt on Tumblr that asked me for a story about Thranduil being a bit of a mess and falling in love with one of his guards. I was going to write a one-shot but then enjoyed it so much it's going to be a multi-chapter.</p><p>Entire fiction written to BB's Theme by Ludvig Forssell, Casper's Lullaby by James Horner and Thunderstorm Sounds for Relaxation.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>They were just another armour clad part of his army. Nameless, faceless, at his command and the smallest whims of his desire. His to do what he will with - a weapon with which to achieve his own desires and ends.</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>Not until Thranduil had walked out onto the streets of Dale had he remembered that which he'd long ago forgotten in his pride and arrogance. Then he had seen just how mistaken and foolish he had been. The nameless were no longer faceless, but elves, most of them Silvan, some Sindar, but all equal in death, the congealing blood spilling from their many wounds in exactly the same shade of red. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He wondered if they'd had families, loved ones, questioned how many would mourn upon their return when they found their mate, parent or child no longer amongst the living. He could not imagine how many would curse his name and the ground upon which he walked for his greed and folly. The horror he had felt at both himself and the world was indescribable, and as he had gazed long at those faces his anger had quickly turned to the grief of life so needlessly wasted and he had suddenly felt as though he could vomit. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Feren..Recall your company.."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The kingsguard captain had nodded his assent and pressed the horn to his lips, its sharp notes ringing loud and clear throughout the ruins of the once great city, sounding the elven retreat.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You had been one of the first to heed the call, slaying an orc with swift finality and then bursting clear from a side street in the effort to come to your King's side as quickly as possible. You had stepped into line beside him as he had carried on his way, shielding him from any attack that thought to come out of one of the many small alleyways to his right. His eyes had passed over you for the most fleeting of moments as you had rushed to guard his flank, and then he'd done a double take. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>You had lost your helm somewhere in the midst of the fighting and your pale face had been smeared with the filth of battle, thick splatters of black blood befouling your silver hair. Sapphire eyes had scanned every shadow and nook for the slightest sign of impending ambush and Thranduil had yet again been reminded that his soldiers were living flesh and blood.  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>A small group of orcs had scurried to block his path and he had reached for his sword to end their miserable existence, but you had cut them down with deadly precision before even a single one could come within reach of him, your form fluid and merciless as you had worked to protect him at all costs. You had pressed back into his side once more and there you had stayed, watching over him and shielding him through every trial that was yet to come his way that fateful day.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You were there for him as a constant reminder of the true cost of war, there to make it easy for him to dismiss the wizard's pleas in sending aid to the dwarf king in light of what more it could cost him to do so. And then you were there to witness his shame when faced with the former captain of his border guard.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You had notched an arrow as soon as Tauriel had threatened him, of course. But Thranduil had seen the true horror in your eyes and the tremble of your fingers as you had drawn back the bowstring, and he had wondered fleetingly if you could really have killed her if necessary. The thought alone had made him feel even more ill than before. As it was, it hadn't been necessary. His anger had finally gotten the better of him and he had taken matters into his own hands, leaving you to witness his humiliation and hurt then at the hands of his son, followed by his deepest grief at the words of the wizard.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It had been your gentle touch that had brought him back from that despair, your fingers resting lightly on his arm that had allowed him to think clearly again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What are your orders, my king?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He had looked up to find you gazing at him with steady eyes, finding no judgement there, only loyalty, devotion and trust. It was this more than anything that had prevented him from giving up, from allowing himself to admit defeat for the first time in his long life. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He had ordered the company to Ravenhill, knowing then that he could not have escaped the war that had befallen them, and you had followed him without question, fighting by his side against the insurmountable odds with everything you had left, never once relenting or giving in to hopelessness even when all had seemed lost to him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The arrival of the eagles had swung the battle firmly in your favour and a rumour had come upon the wind that the dwarf king had, admirably, felled Azog the Defiler. Leaderless, the orcs had soon divided and scattered and you had your hard won victory at last. Desperate to know the fate of his son, Thranduil had entered the crumbling towers and you had guarded him even then, keeping lookout in the passages and witnessing his tears as he had said a painful goodbye, your presence comforting him enough to even forgive a grieving Tauriel as she had lain over the slain body of the young dwarf prince of which she had come to love. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>And Thranduil was grateful. Grateful for the strength you had somehow given him to survive the agony of that day, knowing without a doubt that he would also need it more than ever in the days that were to follow.</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The haunting sounds of loss and lament echo around the halls of the woodland realm and throughout the surrounding forest, the songs of grief making your aching heart even heavier.</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>You rub at your temples, desperately trying to keep your eyes open as your weary mind relives the battle and its aftermath for what felt like the thousandth time.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Rhovanion was in mourning, and the true depth of what had been lost was only now beginning to be felt, spreading its way like poison to even the furthest corners of this blood soaked land.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The king had commanded his slain to be recovered from the field of war, ordering carts from the forest to bear them home, and you had not left his side for even a second as he had overseen the sacred return of the fallen to their kin.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It had been a long and arduous task, and your immense grief had slowly turned to numb, unfeeling disbelief as you had helped load the cold, unseeing shells of those who had, only a few hours ago, been friends - friends full of light, laughter and warmth.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Beside you, man and dwarf alike had done the same, all animosity between peoples forgotten for the sake of honouring the departed, of which, it was soon apparent, there were thousands. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Many of them were elven, but there were also men and women from Laketown, now finding their population suddenly halved - and the dwarves likewise had also suffered heavy losses, including their mighty king and the two young princes, their sorrow upon this terrible discovery unbearable to behold. You knew without doubt that you would never be able to forget the sounds of the laments as those three had been borne from the towers, no matter how long your existence proved to be. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was a strange thing, you thought, how despite your differences, you all grieved exactly the same. You knew that the same songs of loss would echo out across Dale and in the Mountain this very night and found it a pity that it was only through this sadness that you would all eventually be reconciled.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Stretching to ease the aching muscles that still suffered from their long labour, you glance with concern at the door you were guarding as a muffled curse comes from beyond.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You had stayed loyally by your king throughout, shielding him from anything that thought to harm his body whilst all the while feeling yourself to be truly helpless to protect him from the pain he would still come to endure that day and since. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>You had witnessed it all; seen the immeasurable horror in his ageless eyes upon sight of the dead and dying, the endless hurt that had been caused to him by ignorant words of people who should have been wiser or known better - who should have just spared a moment to look a little deeper before judging him with such finality. And you had also seen the tears of torment, those that he would not let fall even as his son had walked away from him and left him truly alone - and you grieved for him above all else.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The sound of smashing glass followed by something heavy hitting stone suddenly comes to hammer this sentiment home and you knock sharply on the carved, wooden door in alarm; "My lord? My lord, are you well?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A low, answering groan comes faint from within and, concerned for his wellbeing, you steel yourself to enter without leave, thinking he could reprimand you later with pleasure if he so wanted. "My lord?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>With soft feet, you glide down the spiralling steps and into his rest chambers, your breath hitching in horror at the sight of the carnage that greeted you.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Scattered glass shards twinkled against smooth stone, glittering faceted in a thousand fractured pieces in the dim light of the partially shuttered lanterns. The lithe figure of the elf king lay prone and unmoving in the midst of this sparkling wreckage, the white shirt he wore under his bed coat now quickly staining through with the same red that leaked out on to the cold floor beneath him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No!" Your heart in your mouth, you rush quickly towards him, skipping lightly over the broken pieces of clear crystal to crouch at his side. "My lord!?" Trembling with fear, you reach out to brush back the thick stands of his white hair and touch his neck, searching for his heartbeat and finding it there, clear and strong beneath your gentle fingertips. Confused, your hands fall to examine the wet cloth of his shirt instead, your breast heaving with a great sigh of relief and a silent prayer of gratitude when you find it soaked only with wine. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Legolas..." He stirs beneath your hands with a groan and you press your palms more firmly against his chest to still him; "Have caution, my king. There is glass everywhere.."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He tilts his head at the sound of your soothing voice, his eyes unfocused and glazed with drink as they come to rest upon your face; "...<em>You</em>?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You kick away the largest pieces of the broken decanter that surrounded him and then, ignoring all protocol in light of his current state, you reach your arms under his before he can protest and draw him up to his feet in a single fluid movement, his muscular frame still no burden at all on your strength. He teeters dangerously, disoriented with the sudden change of position and you slip your arms down to his waist to steady him, holding his weight against you the best you could.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Where is Legolas?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His face now only inches from your own, you see him searching your soul for the answer, and you gaze back at him anxiously, wondering what to tell him, and quickly deciding the truth was always better, no matter how painful; "He left the kingdom after the battle, my lord."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He staggers into you, a flash of renewed pain crossing his eyes and tensing at the smooth lines of his jaw as he recognises the truth in your words and remembers. Feeling truly guilty for hurting him further, you kick away a few more pieces of broken glass and then duck under his arm to support him better. "Come, my king. Allow me to assist you to bed."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You urge him into a walk, and he complies, stumbling along beside you without protest as you half carry him up the carved steps to his bedchamber. Throwing back the covers, you let him drop gently on to the soft mattress and bend immediately to remove him of his boots.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He watches you silently as you work, his pale eyes never leaving your face for the smallest moment, even as you finish with the supple leather of his footwear and then rise again to undress him of his sodden bed coat and shirt. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Pulling away the soiled material and discarding it to the floor, you swiftly check him over for injuries, noting a few superficial cuts to his arms and chest before quickly averting your eyes from his partial nakedness and motioning for him to lay back into his pillows. Still compliant, he does as requested and you cover him swiftly with the warmth of his blankets, your cheeks colouring with embarrassment.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Caltariel?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The sudden sensation of his fingers rubbing against the blush brings your eyes back to his, and you tense, unmoving as marble as his gentle touch continues across your burning skin to lose itself instead in the long strands of your silver hair. His pale gaze softens as he gathers together the wayward strands and tucks them carefully behind your ear before releasing you, his heavy eyes fluttering closed in exhaustion; "Thank you.."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You watch over him for a moment longer, your heart near breaking with the depth of your compassion and devotion to him and then you smile sadly as his steady breathing deepens, and he drifts into the gentle respite of sleep. Content that he would be safe, you retrieve his wine-soaked clothes from the floor and finally dismiss yourself from his side; "Rest well, sweet king."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Caltariel - A name meaning a lady who is crowned with radiance or shining light.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thranduil wakes with a start, the dark shadows of his dreams lingering still in his sleep heavy mind.</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>He takes a deep breath and sinks back into his pillows, willing his heart to slow and his body to relax as he rouses himself fully.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Soft strains of endless grief continue to echo around the halls, drifting like a mourning wind over his balcony to brush gently against his ears. He listens to them for a while, the many faces of the dead passing through his mind, tormenting him, bringing with them older memories of another battle before black ash mountains and of the loss that he had suffered there, the agony of it still raw. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>His brooding thoughts soon become unbearable and he rises from his bed to distract himself, pausing only when he notices his own bare chest and the soft linen badages that were wound neatly around his torso and arms.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He frowns, his fingers quickly tugging away one of the soft cloths and tracing the partially healed cut that marred his forearm with confusion. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He knew he had been drunk last night. He had sought solace from his pain in the bottom of a glass often enough to be able to recognise the lingering effects of it clouding his mind, but he hadn't realised just how drunk.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A swift inspection of the remainder of his dressings reveals more of the same - long, jagged wounds all partially healed and leaving red and purple webs across his smooth skin. He stands to gaze at them in the mirror of his closet, focusing his thoughts to recollect how he could have possibly come by them.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Soothing words and a glint of starlight stir from deep within his consciousness, and he wonders if they were real or had only been a part of his lonely dreams.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was only after he had refreshed himself and dressed that he truly remembered. The door to his chambers swings open on oiled hinges, revealing the same silver tresses he had been thinking of, and the memories of the previous evening all come flooding back to him with the sight.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He steps up behind you on silent feet, noting the weary lines of your shoulders and stiff posture with a flare of concern and sadness; "You.."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His soft voice makes you jump and you turn towards the door in surprise, having not heard him approach in your exhaustion. You bow low upon sight of him, "My lord?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Come in here."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You do as commanded and follow him obediently back into his chambers, your heart sinking in your chest like lead. You felt certain he was about to reprimand you for your lapse in concentration and felt ashamed at having disappointed him so swiftly.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Descending the last steps behind him, you enter his study and stand to attention, awaiting your punishment as he searches out another decanter of wine from an oak cabinet beside his desk. He pours himself a glass when he finally finds one and then turns to face you, examining you in silence for a long moment. "When was the last time you slept?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your brow furrows thoughtfully as you try to remember, "I am not entirely sure, my lord. Four, maybe five days ago."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He raises a brow in quiet surprise of your endurance, taking in your nervous stance and tired eyes as he leans back against the carved oak of the table; "Then why are you guarding my door instead of resting?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You stare at the smooth slabs of stone by your feet, wondering why he wasn't yet declaring his disapproval in you; "I volunteered to take the duty, my lord. As you are aware, Feren and the others have all lost someone dear to them and it seemed only right that they should be given time with their grief."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I see.." He studies you intently, trying to get the measure of you, noting that despite your obvious Sindar heritage you chose to dress in the same style and cloth as the Silvan elves who made up the largest majority of his people; "And you? Did you not lose anyone?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You shake your head, "No, my king. I have no one left to lose except you. Hence my guarding your door."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He frowns questioningly; "No one at all? What of your parents?</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"My father died by your side in Dagorlad and my mother faded soon after."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Despite your impassive words, your voice breaks, betraying the first true sign of any real emotion he had yet seen in you and he flinches, almost kicking himself for asking and causing you that pain - a pain he himself still felt heavy within his heart.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He had lost his own father and two thirds of his kingdom on that black day. The dead numbering beyond the count of grief, with most souls lost to the dark depths of the foul swamps that marked that evil land. He knew what had become of the spirits that perished there - knew that they were now trapped for all eternity by the dark necromancy of Sauron, imprisoned forever to be used as his guard dogs and never able to pass into the West. It was a pain that was never spoken of amongst his people, but one that was still deeply felt by them all and small wonder your mother had faded because of it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His eyes soften with true empathy, and a part of him longed to reach out and comfort you from the agony he knew without doubt you felt to the depths of your heart; "I am truly sorry.."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You nod gratefully, "I thank you for the kindness, but do not trouble yourself. It is an honour to defend and die for you, my king."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Truly? An honour?" He snorts in contempt of your words, gesturing vaguely to himself with a pale hand; "Do you really believe me to be someone worth dying for?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The sudden shortness of his tone and the apparent self-loathing you heard within his warm voice finally gives you the courage to lift your eyes to his and you see him almost searching your soul for the answer. You frown, wondering if he was testing your resolve in service of him; "I would die for you without hesitation."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Because you are my king."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He slams the cup down on his desk in frustration, "Enough!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You flinch in the face of his sudden anger and retreat, "Forgive me.." Bowing low, you step back against the wall, falling respectfully silent and submissive if only to appease him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He groans, regretting the outburst as soon as it had left his lips, having not meant to take his anger with himself out on you; "That is not what I meant. I only meant for you to tell me the truth."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You swallow hard, no longer daring to meet his eyes and not knowing what it was he expected you to say. "I do speak the truth, my king."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He sighs softly, truly ashamed of his burst of temper in light of how frightened you now appeared to be, "My name is Thranduil."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes, my lord. I am aware."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He pours a second glass of wine and then approaches you cautiously, holding it out for you to take. "Drink."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I can not while on duty, my lord."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He thrusts it further towards you impatiently, "I command it." Your fingers immediately close around the goblet and he turns his back on you to pour himself another, gesturing towards the velvet couch next to which you stood; "Sit and drink with me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You do as he commands, sitting yourself nervously on one edge of the plush sofa while he comes to seat himself at the other end, a small smirk of amusement tugging at his lips when he notices your stiff posture and uncomfortable expression; "Relax. I am only curious as to whom I have been keeping in my company these past days and I would talk with you as a person and not as a soldier."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"As you say, my lord." You move to sit more comfortably and clutch the cup tightly in your hands like a shield against your anxiousness as you wait for him to speak again.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He relaxes back into his seat and sips his wine, studying you closely with keen eyes and taking in your silver hair and tall stature with open curiosity; "Here are the rules of our conversation. I will ask you questions and you will answer them honestly and without fear of any anger or repercussion. I am curious to know what it is you truly think and feel. In return, you may ask of me or speak to me of anything you wish and I will also answer honestly. Does that seem fair?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes, my lord."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He nods in acceptance of the agreed terms and continues; "Very well. Then let us begin. Tell me.. Why is a Sindar noble hiding herself away in my army?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You look up at him in surprise, "I am not hiding, my lord?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"If you are not hiding, then why have I never seen you? Why have you not been presented to my court?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Because my parents never wished for me to come to court." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He raises a questioning brow and you wonder what to say, finding the subject to be one that could provoke his ire. However, you had promised him that you would be honest, and so therefore press on and hope he would forgive you; "My father was with you in Doriath, and he was not overly fond of many of the others that followed you and your father East. He felt most of them only came with you in the hope of a status they had not earned." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I see.. And what were <em>his</em> reasons for following us?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You gaze back at him earnestly; "He followed you out of love. And because he truly believed in your idea of living as we were meant to, at one with the world, despite its flaws."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He processes this information silently and you continue, remembering clearly your father's words to you on the matter; "After I was born here he kept me away from court as he had seen his suspicions come true, saw how they set themselves above the others with false notions of grandiosity despite having little or no noble blood themselves. He despised how they always sought favour but did nothing to earn it, and how little they aided you and your father despite their promises. He did not want for me to become a part of their schemes and politics but rather do as he had; live to your vision and serve you with devotion and loyalty, not with fair words and vain favours." You trail off and look to him fearfully; "Forgive me.."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He waves the apology away without hesitation; "There is nothing to forgive. I asked you to answer honestly and you have." He rises fluidly to walk to his desk and retrieve the wine, pondering all you had told him and finding himself more and more fascinated, "Your father sounds like he was a formidable force to be reckoned with. I feel a great sense of pity that he himself did not join court. It would have amused me greatly to have seen the feathers he would have ruffled with his views."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You smile softly as he returns to his seat beside you; "He was certainly formidable, my lord. But you are mistaken in thinking he never joined court. He was part of your father's house and captain of his kingsguard before Oropher charged him to be your sworn shield when you were still but a child."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He tenses in the midst of pouring himself another drink, not even noticing that he was spilling most of it on the floor. You lean forward to take the decanter from him before he could make any more of a mess and he stares at you with wide eyes. "<em>Brethíl?</em> Brethíl was your father?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes, my lord."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You finish pouring him his drink and he takes the cup you offer him in stunned disbelief; "He wasn't only my shield .. He was my friend."</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sadril - Loyal/Devoted One (Feminine version)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thranduil searches your face for any sign of a lie and your cheeks soon begin to burn under the intense scrutiny of his topaz eyes.</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>He wonders how he could have been so blind when the truth of it was now written so clearly for him in your lovely features; he knew he should have guessed as soon as he had seen you fight. The way you moved and handled a blade had been so familiar it was almost like watching himself in a mirror; which, he supposed, it was. You had been tutored by the same master after all.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He stands and begins to pace before you, lost in some memory of long ages past, and you watch his progress in uneasy silence, wondering momentarily if you had upset him in some way. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Your father raised me as much as my own. He taught me how to ride, how to use both sword and bow, and how to survive. He never left my side. Not even once. Despite the horror." He pauses in his soft treading of the smooth slabs and turns to look at you directly, distracting you from your own thoughts; "I thought I knew everything there was to know about him and I can not believe that he kept you a secret from me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your expression softens in response to the distress you felt so clearly from him; "Do not be too swift to condemn his actions, my lord. You know the king would have expected me to be presented to him had he known, and he did not want to disagree with his lord on the matter of my raising, nor tear your loyalties by asking you to keep the secret of my birth from your father. He was protecting us both." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>You smile sadly, trying to reassure him as he hangs on your every word, "I know for certain how much he cared for you, as he instilled that same devotion into me and I am living proof of it, so please don't ever doubt his love."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He searches your eyes as he ponders your words in silence for a long moment, and then, mollified for now by your explanation, he gestures towards the cup clutched at breaking point in your slim fingers. "I thought I commanded you to drink?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You shift uneasily, still not comfortable with the request while on duty and hoping that he would have forgotten so you could get away without taking a sip. He raises a brow when you continue to hesitate and sighs at your expression; "Caltariel, do you truly believe there is anything that could come through that door right now which you and I could not defeat together even after several barrels?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You can't help but snort with mirth at the utter seriousness in which he had asked the question, your heart warming with the complete confidence he had just placed in you with his words. "No, my lord."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You lift the cup to your lips and drain the sweet and heady contents in a single, long draught and he smirks in satisfaction when you show him it empty; "You drink just like he did, too. Like a true soldier. You know, he used to insist we drink a whole barrel the night before a battle?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You raise a sceptical brow; "Is that so? Because, he told it very differently, my lord. Apparently, <em>you</em> were the bad influence."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He laughs suddenly, soft and musical, his whole face lighting up into a wide smile that made his cheeks dimple and his eyes sparkle mischievously. You find yourself captivated by it; the rare sight of his happiness lifting your heavy heart more than rest could ever hope to achieve.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He would certainly know. Perhaps one day I will tell you some of the less embarrassing stories. But for now, I will let you decide the truth of it for yourself, as I fully intend us to drink a whole barrel in his honour."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He comes to sit beside you again, refilling both glasses before twisting on the couch to face you with eager curiosity; "Tell me about your childhood."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You shift in response, the better to see him; "I didn't really have a childhood as such, my lord. The first few years were happy enough to be sure, and they were much the same as for any young elf. But then the darkness began to weigh heavy upon the world once again, so my father took to training me, as he did you, to survive it for as long as possible. I spent many hours with him, as often as he could spare away from his duties, learning everything he could and would teach me, until at last, your father called for his forces to be gathered for battle."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your brow furrows in remembrance; "I watched from the eaves as he mounted at your side, and I can still recall so clearly how you both looked, your armour bright as stars and the sun shining on your shields as you rode away at the head of the great column with the king. It was a magnificent sight and I felt very proud despite my fear that I would never see him again."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your eyes suddenly begin to sting with unshed tears and you blink rapidly to clear them, looking up to find him watching you with surprising tenderness and sympathy. You take a steadying breath to regain your composure and continue, "After you left, my mother and I joined the great effort of making sure the supply train ran efficiently to you as you travelled south. And that is what I did all throughout the long war, striving to keep our forces as fed and armoured as possible."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He gives you a wan smile, sharing your pain and looking to alleviate it from you as much as he could, "Admirably, I might add. We never went hungry or without." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>You bow your head in gratitude for his words and take a sip of your wine as he voices his next question; "You joined the army upon our return?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You nod, "Yes, my lord. So few had returned and they were desperate for recruits. Fighting is what I am good at and it was the only way I could think to both honour my fallen father and serve you; so after you were crowned king, I sought out Feren and requested to be admitted."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"He tells me you're now the deadliest warrior in my kingdom."</p>
</div><div>
<p></p><div><p>Your cheeks flush at hearing of the captain's high opinion, "He is very kind, but he says as much only because he has never fought me himself. For which I am grateful."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil tilts his head, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth; "You forget that I too have seen you fight first hand, and I am quite willing to accept his assessment in this instance, not only because he does not give praise lightly, but also because I have heard you beat several of his captains in single combat the day you enlisted."</p></div><div><p>You laugh with the memory and dip your head in confirmation; "You can imagine how it seemed to him; a young noble girl wanting to be a soldier. He tried to send me on my way without a second glance, but I was most persistent. He eventually relented just to get rid of me and gave me a wooden sword. He said if I could land a single hit on Amros then he would reconsider. I admit that I was more than irritated by their doubt and exercised much less control than I should have. I firmly believe Amros still avoids me to this day." </p></div><div><p>You smile as you recall Feren's expression when you had defeated his chosen with swift ease, "To banish permanently any notion that I was not worthy, I challenged every captain that was present and watching, and the rest, as they say, is history."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil chuckles, imagining the scene clearly; a young maiden laying waste to the battle hardened captains who had mocked her without realising she had been trained by the best swordsman he had ever seen. He wonders fleetingly what injuries they could have suffered beyond their pride and wishes he could have witnessed it for himself. "I am most surprised that Feren did not demand to know who you were."</p></div><div><p>"I do not think he cared, my lord. You needed soldiers and I had proven myself to be more than capable, which was all that concerned him at the time."</p></div><div><p>"Either that, or he did not dare to ask."</p></div><div><p>You laugh with him, revelling in his happiness and, relaxing with the warming effects of the wine, you find yourself beginning to enjoy his company and conversation more than you could have imagined. "As you say, my lord. I suppose we will never know for sure."</p></div><div><p>You drain your glass and he instantly refills it, dismissing your admonishing look with an innocent expression that did not fool you for a moment; "So, now you have worked your way through my ranks, and Feren tells me that you will most likely be chosen as the second company's new high captain and will become a member of my kingsguard. Is that correct?"</p></div><div><p>"I can not say whom the others will choose to lead them, my lord. It would be an honour to be named, of course, and I value very much the respect that they have come to have for me, and return it completely, but I have never desired either rank nor station for myself."</p></div><div><p>He leans into the back of the sofa and studies you carefully, as though trying to pull your deepest thoughts from your mind, "What is it that you <em>do</em> desire, Caltariel?"</p></div><div><p>You gaze back at him with steady eyes, seeing his own shining with curiosity; "Only to do as my father would have wished and serve you however I can. With loyalty and devotion."</p></div><div><p>His brow furrows at your words, "I am not asking you what your father would have wished for you. I am asking you of your own desires."</p></div><div><p>"That is my only desire, my lord. He is no longer here, and so I must love you for both of us."</p></div><div><p>"And do you?"</p></div><div><p>You raise a questioning brow, "Do I what, my lord?"</p></div><div><p>His pale eyes fall to the hand that rested loosely in your lap and he reaches out to take it, his fingers warm against your own as he squeezes gently. "Love me."</p></div><div><p>You tense, surprised by his touch and not knowing how to react to it, nor the current of charged energy that radiated through the connection of your skin; "Of course."</p></div><div><p>He continues to stare at your fingers as he rubs his thumb slowly along the backs of them, seemingly not as affected by the sensation as you were; "Why?"</p></div><div><p>"For the same reason I told you I would die for you without hesitation. Because you are my king."</p></div><div><p>He sighs softly, wondering how he could ever get beyond your blind devotion to both himself and your father and discover what was truly in your heart, finding himself quite desperate to know; "That is not reason enough to bestow such precious gifts on me, sadril."</p></div><div><p>"For me it is."</p></div><div><p>He waits for you to say more, or explain yourself, but you remain silent and he questions how he could have ever captured such unswerving loyalty from you when he had never done anything at all to deserve it - at least not in your lifetime. The images of the previous evening come back to mind and his self-loathing rears its ugly head to make him doubt himself even further. His shame over you finding him in such a state cripples him and he suddenly finds himself unable to look at you; "I apologise for my behaviour last night and for startling you. I am truly sorry you had to see such a thing and can only imagine what you must have thought of me."</p></div></div><div>
  <p>You gaze at him with soft eyes, amazed that he had remembered any of it and surprised by the abrupt change of subject; wondering how his thoughts had led him to this. You return the pressure on his fingers reassuringly, finding his sudden vulnerability both captivating and heartbreaking in equal measure; "I think nothing but the best of you, my lord. As I always have. And you certainly have nothing to apologise for. I will always help you wherever I can."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The soothing conviction in your statement gives him the courage to meet your eyes and see the truth there for himself in their compassionate depths; "There is simply no judgement to ever be found in you, is there Caltariel?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I do not believe it is my right or my place to judge you, my king. Each soul has his own burden to bear and the world knows it not; so therefore none should feel qualified to comment on it but rather let that soul deal with his sorrows as he deems fit and be content to simply walk beside him and assist if ever needed."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He raises a brow at the sudden impassioned tone of your gentle voice and wonders at it; "You are most wise, dear one. But what is a king if not a being who is constantly subjected to the judgement of his people?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You have never struck me as a person who dwells too much on other's opinions, my lord."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No? And what kind of person do I seem to you, Caltariel?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You gaze at the fingers that still gently held your own, feeling more than uncomfortable and wishing you could escape answering him. Awaiting your response, his eyes burn into your face with all the intensity of the sun, and remembering your promise, you take a deep breath and continue, your voice soft; "One who has always done the best he can to keep his people safe and see them happy, despite receiving little comfort or understanding from them in return."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You flush in obvious embarrassment and he can do no more than stare at you for a moment in stunned silence, deeply moved by your thoughtful assessment of him. He brings your hand to his lips, making your face burn even hotter when he presses a tender and heartfelt kiss to your fingers; "I thank you for your most touching words. But I think you are mistaken on one thing dear one, as I am now suddenly finding myself quite comforted and understood after all."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He finally releases your hand allowing you to relax and offer him a small smile, "Then I admit myself glad indeed to be so mistaken, my king."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He returns your smile and stands to unearth more wine from the cupboard; "I am also decided."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"On what in particular, my lord?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He straightens with another bottle in hand; "I deeply grieved for your father, and I still do. I did not ever have the heart to try and replace that which I deemed irreplaceable, nor name myself a new shield. But I think in this instance he would not mind and it would, in fact, be rather fitting." He turns to face you, his expression entirely serious, "I would name you as his successor."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You can only stare at him in silence, looking at him as though he had suddenly lost his mind, and he would have found the expression almost amusing if he hadn't been quite so hurt by it. Instead he frowns at your unfavourable reaction, deeply surprised by both that and your unexpected lack of enthusiasm; "I feel you are none too happy with my suggestion?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You fidget awkwardly under his scrutiny, "It is not that, my lord. You honour me beyond all belief and desire. Your trust and confidence means a great deal to me and I am thankful for it more than I can say."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And yet, despite your fair words, I am sensing a but. Say what is on your mind, Caltariel."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You sigh, wondering how to best explain yourself and banish the clear look of rejection from his eyes at the same time, "<em>But</em>... I have always worked hard for everything I have ever achieved and never once asked for anything else. I am proud to serve you however I can, and do not ask you for special favours because of my blood or who my father was." You gaze up at him earnestly, "I am truly honoured that you would think of me, but I can not in good conscience accept a position that I have neither earned nor deserve. My father would mind that greatly, as would I."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He weighs your words carefully as he uncorks the bottle and pours it into the decanter; "Then I am afraid you are mistaken for a second time, dear one."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"How so, my lord?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He places the empty bottle aside and turns to face you again, leaning against the cabinet as he regards you thoughtfully; "Because by the very actions you have just admitted to me you prove you deserve it more than anyone. And just as your father before you, you have not left my side even once these past days, no matter how bleak the situation appeared to be and no matter my shame. You are still here even now, putting others before yourself, me most of all, despite your own obvious sorrow and fatigue. And you truly believe you have not earned your chance to remain at my side?" He raises a questioning brow and continues, "You also tell me that your only desire is to serve me as your father would have wished, with loyalty and devotion. Surely then, you should want me to have the best warrior in my kingdom watching over me, as he would have?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You gaze back at him in total defeat, humbled by his words and his high opinion of you, but still feeling very undeserving of his praise. He softens in the face of your obvious discomfort; "I did not offer you the position because of your blood <em>or</em> the fact that your father was a good friend to me. I offered you it because I am truly grateful to you. I know I could not have survived the battle without you shielding my back, nor endured these past days without your considerate care of me. So, I ask you once again. Will you walk beside this soul and assist him wherever needed while he tries to deal with his sorrows the best way he can?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You take a deep breath, recognising your own words as you think it over more carefully, wondering if you were qualified enough to serve him in such a way. Deciding to take a chance, you finally nod and place down your cup with shaking fingers, caught up in the momentousness of the situation.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Rising to your feet you withdraw your sword and approach him, laying the blade on the flat of your palms as you bow low before him and offer it out to him in fealty. "It would be a great honour, my king. I am yours to command."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He smiles in the satisfaction of getting his own way and takes the sword from you without hesitation. Placing it on the table behind him, he motions for you to rise before leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to your brow; "You bring me great comfort, dear one. I will rest much easier knowing I have you by my side." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He pulls away only slightly to look at you, his eyes shining; "And besides, I could not bear for such loveliness to be hidden away under the armour of the kingsguard."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your breath catches and your heart stutters erratically in your chest, responding instantly to his extreme proximity and the softly muttered words which he had just whispered against your skin. Unable to look away from the piercing eyes that held you in their gaze, you forget to breathe altogether as his fingertips begin to trail across your jaw in obvious fascination with your reactions to him. He smiles softly, lingering for only a moment on the flushed swell of your cheekbone before finally releasing you; leaving you feeling dizzy and disoriented.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He hands you back your sword and you struggle to sheath it, glad he now had his back to you again so he could not see your newfound incompetence in handling a blade. You finally manage to get control of your senses and slide it home just as he turns with the wine and motions for you to rejoin him on the sofa. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Tomorrow you will visit the armoury so that they may take your measurements and craft something befitting your new station. I will send word for them to expect you, as well as to my seamstress. After you have done that, you will go to the stables and find a mount also. You may choose any of my horses that you wish and which seems good to you, understood?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Yes, my lord."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You seat yourself next to him again, unable to look him in the eye and trying to hide your flushed face behind your hair. He smiles when he notices and motions for your cup; "Your main duty is to be my companion. You will accompany me wherever I go, fight by my side if needed, keep my confidence at all times, as I will keep yours, and you will advise me whenever you feel there is cause."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Shocked, you finally disregard your embarrassment to look up at him; "I could never presume to tell - "</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He cuts you off with a wave of his hand; "You can and you will. I may be your king, but I am not infallible. Your father recognised this well and subjected me to many an admonishment. I require your honesty at all times, even if you feel it contradicts your loyalty or you believe it will make me angry in that moment. True devotion comes from truth and trust, and I am amending our conversation rules to reflect as such. You will tell me exactly what you think and I shall always do the same. I do not want there to be any secrets between us. Is that fair?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You sigh in resignation; "You are not leaving me much room for negotiation, my lord."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He grins as he notes your defeated posture, "You must learn to argue better then, dear one. I do not give in easily and you had better be prepared to fight long and hard to defeat me in a battle of wills."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You laugh softly at his confident self-assessment; "I may yet surprise you if we ever disagree on a subject I feel passionate about."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I will look forward to that day, then."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I will remind you that you said that if the day should ever come."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He takes a sip of his drink and relaxes back into the cushions; "I expect no less."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You turn to face him curiously; "After I have done as requested tomorrow, what other tasks would you have me do?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I will expect you by my side at the burying of the dead."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Of course."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He ponders you thoughtfully for a long moment; "Obviously, I will also expect to see you at the evening's feast as my guest, and all festivities from now on; but apart from that the day is yours and you shall not be expected for duty at any point."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You groan inwardly, having not thought of that particular requirement before accepting your new position. You had always avoided the celebrations as much as possible, preferring to stay in your chambers and read rather than take part in the revelries. On the few occasions you had been persuaded to attend, you had always either volunteered to be on guard duty or kept yourself well out of the main gatherings and amongst the darkness of the trees with other members of your company. Now there would be no such escape.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>As if reading your thoughts, he allows himself a wry smile; "I can imagine tomorrow night will be rather entertaining for me. You're sure to cause quite the stir amongst the court." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Before you could respond, a sharp knock comes echoing down the staircase and Thranduil turns towards it; "Enter!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You shift uncomfortably and quickly empty your cup as armoured footsteps begin the descent to his rooms, but he seems entirely untroubled and relaxed as though it was a regular occurrence and completely normal for him to be caught drinking in the morning with one of his soldiers.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>To great amusement, it was Amros who came into view, his face a barely concealed mask of surprise when he finds you in the king's company. He pauses before the sofa, nods to you and then bows low before his king; "Forgive the intrusion my lord, but I arrived for duty and found your door unguarded. I was concerned."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil smiles, his eyes flicking between you and the kingsguard, undecided as to whom looked the most awkward; "It is no matter. I have been well guarded by our mutual friend here who has kindly kept me company at my own request."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Amros bows again, "As you say, my lord. If you will excuse me then, I will be at your door if you should have need."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Thank you, Amros."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"My lord."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The kingsguard scurries from the room as quickly as possible and Thranduil waits until he hears the door latch behind him before bursting into laughter; "I do believe you are right, dearest. I have never seen him look so petrified. What on earth <em>did</em> you do to him?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You grin back at him, your eyes shining with mirth; "Let us just say that he had problems sitting comfortably for a few days."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil laughs all the harder; "That would certainly make any sane male pause upon encountering you again. Poor Amros, I feel most sorry for him."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You gesture towards his current state of happiness; "So I see. Very compassionate indeed."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He takes a deep breath and wipes his eyes, his heart feeling much lighter than it had for days. He smiles up at you with a grateful expression; "Well, we had better not make him feel any more uncomfortable now that he has arrived. Go and catch up on your rest dearest, you look beyond exhausted."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You nod and rise to your feet, placing your empty cup on the table before turning to bow before him. He stands as you straighten back up and regards you fondly; "Thank you for your company. It has been most pleasant."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"For me too. I am glad to have been able to spend the time with you, exhaustion or no."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He nods in appreciation of your words and steps towards you to press a swift kiss to your brow; "Go and sleep, little one. I will see you tomorrow."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Until tomorrow, my king." You turn on your heel and make for the stairs until he suddenly calls out to you with an afterthought.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Caltariel?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You glance back at him questioningly; "My lord?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A small smile ghosts his lips as he studies you, "Don't let me sneak up on you ever again."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a warning, this chapter contains a funeral scene and touches upon the subject of parental death. I never want to upset anyone so I wanted to mention it. There's also fluff. I hope this finds you all safe and well. :)</p><p>Translations:</p><p>Ellyn - Elf men.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>You close the door softly behind you and nod towards a wary looking Amros before departing in the direction of your chambers.</p><p>You wander the halls at a leisurely pace, unable to keep the smile from your face as you ponder the king's last words: <em>Don't let me sneak up on you ever again.</em></p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>And to think, you had been so worried that he was going to punish you for your rare lapse in concentration, when in fact he was more understanding of it than you had ever thought he could be. Understanding enough not only to forgive you, but also to want to keep you with him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You sigh happily, thinking of the complete confidence and trust he was placing in you by asking you to remain at his side, and that alone, along with his high opinion, meant the whole world to you and only fortified your utter devotion and loyalty to him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You let yourself into your rooms when you reach them, wondering what your father would think of your new position and if he would be proud of you. You were following in his footsteps after all, and Thranduil's words to you on the matter had hit a chord. Surely he would be glad to know that, in his absence, you would be using the skills he had given you to protect the prince he had loved so much; loved enough to give his own life for.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You pause to glance at yourself in the mirror, noting your weary and haggard appearance with a groan. You couldn't even recall how many days it had been since you had last slept and you were certainly beginning to show for it. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Quickly disrobing, you pad barefoot across the room to the bathing pool that was sunk into the smooth stone there, thinking to at least take the opportunity to freshen up before retiring to bed. You step into the cool waters with a sigh of appreciation, your thoughts turning at last to the king himself and the time you had spent with him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He was just like you had always imagined him to be and more. Impressive, beautiful, imperious and more than a little intimidating. And yet there was also another side to him - one that you had known existed through your father's stories, but one that most in the kingdom would never be privileged enough to see. Along with his cunning intelligence, he obviously had a wicked and mischievous sense of humour, which, along with his penchant for the theatrical, had amused you greatly. He also had a certain warmth and kindness to him that would definitely not be obvious on the surface, but something which he had still bestowed upon you freely and without reserve, and you could see clearly why your father had loved him so.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You kick your feet from the bottom of the pool and lay on your back, letting yourself float idly and your body relax, suspended by the clear water. Your mind drifts along with the rest of you, pondering over your conversation with him, and on the unexpected vulnerability and self-doubt that you had noticed hiding amongst his words; something that had surprised you at first, but now upon reflection became a clear sign of the sorrow you knew that he carried deep within his heart.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He was so alone, holding the weight of an entire realm on his shoulders every single day whilst all the while trying to reconcile himself with his own burdens. You could not even imagine the great strength it took him to get up every morning with a broken heart and deal with all the affairs of the kingdom, let alone contend with the thankless nobles who did little to aid him nor appreciate his struggle.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your compassion and admiration for the elven king was endless. He was the bravest soul you had ever encountered and you wished for nothing more than to ease him however you could; thinking you would give anything just to see him smile again as you remember he used to so long ago.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You sigh sadly, reaching for your soap and silently vowing to yourself that you would do everything in your power to help him and be there for him, no matter the cost, and you were determined to be a success in your new duty to him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Working a fragrant lather of suds into your hair, you begin to wash out the long tresses and run your fingers through the strands to separate them. Your thoughts suddenly turn to his own fingers doing the very same thing on the night you had helped him to bed and your skin quickly begins to burn despite the coolness of the water.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He was far more affectionate than you would have ever imagined, something you could never have prepared yourself for. In fact, so unused were you to physical closeness, that it had caught you entirely off guard and turned you from a hardened soldier and into a blushing maid within mere minutes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Having spent most of your life surrounded by ellyn, and in their eyes regularly counted as one of them, you had never really been shy around the opposite sex; always carrying yourself with confidence in spite of their regular teasing and returning it in kind more often than not. But there was just something about the king, a presence and a power that made you feel safe but at the same time left you unable to even accept a compliment from him without wanting to disappear into a dark hole and hide from his knowing eyes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You wonder at that for a while as you rinse yourself off, questioning whether he was always that way with everyone in close service to him, or had just been comfortable enough for once to indulge himself in his own need for solace, a thought that instantly filled you with great sorrow. You couldn't imagine that he was offered much affection in his daily life and if he felt at ease enough to reach out to you for that companionship then you would not deny him. No, you would simply try to get used it and be more aware of it in future so he couldn't catch you off guard so easily. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Stepping out of the pool you quickly dry yourself off before heading to bed with a weary yawn. The long days of arduous toil soon catches up on you, and your eyes close as soon as your head hits the comfort of the soft pillows. So exhausted were you that you fell asleep almost immediately and did not even notice the change beginning to take place in your heart.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p>**</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p>Thranduil paces his study, his eyes passing over the letter he had received that morning for what felt like the hundredth time. A message from Dáin Ironfoot, now the new King under the Mountain, extending an invitation to visit him on a matter of importance as soon as could possibly be arranged.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He knew he should respond immediately, that it could work in his favour to do so, but he just couldn't concentrate on it or give it his full attention at the moment.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Since you had left him the previous morning he had not been able to settle at all, and it had taken a further two bottles of wine just to enable him to get even a few brief hours sleep - sleep that had once again been disturbed by dreams of starlight hair and soothing words and which had only served to add further to his feelings of loneliness and guilt.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He should not be thinking about you, should not miss your company, and yet it was all he had done.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He frowns as he pours himself a glass of wine, his thoughts turning once again to the revelation of your parentage. He had loved Brethíl almost as much as he had loved his own father, and if he was being entirely honest with himself he still felt betrayed and more than a little angry that he had not been told of your birth. Your words come back to mind with the explanation for your father's actions, and while Thranduil could easily see it from Brethíl's point of view and feel the truth behind his reasoning, he also couldn't help but feel that he had, for many long years, been denied a true friend  - especially as they were so hard to come by for him, as your father had known all too well.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He takes a long sip from his cup and begins to ponder how differently his life could have turned out if only he had known about you; but then stops himself swiftly, his feelings of guilt and self-loathing intensifying with the very thought.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Not only was he insulting the memory of someone he had once loved more than anything else with such notions, but he was also disrespecting the honour of the one who had risked himself to save his life so many times, who had eventually paid that ultimate sacrifice and had given up everything just so that he might live. That selfless act had also cost another soul shortly afterwards and left a grieving child to face the world alone.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil wished more than anything that he could have been there for you to comfort you through that loss, and have you comfort him in return. And it was a wish that he still very much held. You continued to grieve deeply. He had seen for himself the pain you still bore during your conversation - had felt it as easily as he felt his own. It had been the only part of your heart that you had allowed to come forth and be made visible to him, and he had longed to reach out for you, to hold you and shield you from that hurt; to provide you with the same solace that you had unknowingly given him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He sighs sadly and sits at his desk, his feelings a whirling torrent that he couldn't hope to make sense of. He felt as though, since the battle, his whole world had been turned upside down, and all the emotions he had fought to suppress for so long had come flooding back to haunt him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He felt softer somehow, weaker, his heart now open to so many sensations he had long ago forgotten, but also more susceptible to all the pain that came along with them, reminding him once again why he had closed himself off from the world in the first place.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Not that he was proud of what he had allowed himself to become in his want to escape his agony; far from it. The faces of the dead alone had been enough to secure his shame and self-loathing for all eternity, but a small part of him still mourned for no longer being able to get through the endless days of duty without having to feel anything but numb detachment. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>His only comfort during this agonising transition seemed to be you. You were fast becoming a rock admist this tempestuous sea of emotion; one that he was now clinging to desperately and gratefully in the painful absence of his son, and he was thankful indeed that fate had sent you into his life just when he needed someone to stand by him the most. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He smiles softly as he thinks over the last few days. He had never met anyone quite like you before, and not even your father could compare with your enigmatic personality. Trying to find out more about you, he had questioned Feren whilst you had left his side briefly to cleanse yourself of the filth of war, but his high captain's answers had only served to confound and fascinate him even more.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He had learned that you were very well respected within his ranks and by the Silvan population in general, counting many of them amongst your friends. He could tell by how highly and fondly Feren had spoken of you that the high captain himself also considered you to be one of his own and it intrigued Thranduil greatly. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>A Sindar noble beloved by the Silvan's was a heady thought and could be the key he had sought to bring his fractured kingdom closer together at last. But it wasn't the only reason he had wanted to keep you by his side.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>If he was being truthful, he was as equally captivated by you as the wood elves were told to be, and it was easy to see why they responded to you as they did.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Despite likely being the most lethal warrior in the kingdom besides himself, you had still retained your gentleness, and Thranduil could not easily forget the kindness and understanding with which you had treated him, surprising him greatly with your thoughtful words and almost uncanny insight into his heart.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It had been a long time since anyone had cared enough to look at him a little deeper and see him just once without judgement, but you had done so. Even in the face of his shame, he had never yet seen any sign of disgust or contempt in your eyes, only trust and devotion; and that had given him such great comfort. He felt easier in your company and could allow himself to relax just a moment and be himself, knowing that you would not think badly of him if he should falter in his endeavour. It was the greatest gift he had received in so long, and the immortal tear in his heart had not seemed to pain him as greatly while in your presence. In fact, he had found himself smiling and laughing in genuine joy for the first time in an age, something that had felt entirely foreign and yet so wonderful to him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He only wished he could get past your indomitable sense of loyalty to him and get you to open up in return, finding himself almost desperate to know who you truly were beneath the iron layers of honour and fealty that your father had obviously had a hand in instilling in you; thinking almost wistfully of the great friendship that could blossom between you if that should ever happen. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He pours himself another glass of wine and smiles with the thought, and for the first time in millenia he didn't feel quite so alone. He turns back to the letter that Dáin had sent him with far more enthusiasm, thinking it would not be long now until you were by his side again, and looking to pass the time until that happy moment he begins to write out a careful response.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He had not even finished with his reply when a knock on his door echoes down the stairs and his heart skips hopefully as he calls out to enter.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The whisper of silent feet descends the smooth stone and Thranduil could not keep the smile from his face as you enter his study, breathless and glowing, a large cloth-wrapped package in your arms. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good morning, dearest."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You pause beside his desk and bow low before him, a warm smile of your own lighting up your fair face; "Good morning to you, my king. I trust you are well?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil nods and rises to his feet, abandoning his letter without further ado in his want to greet you properly. He leans in to press a fond kiss to your brow; "I am now. And you? Did you sleep?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You place the parcel on the edge of the table when he pulls back to look at you; "Yes, my lord. I retired to bed after leaving you yesterday and only arose this morning."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He can't help but laugh at the proud expression you wore at achieving such a feat, and turns to gather his cloak from the back of his chair, "I'm glad, dear one. And did you also manage to complete the tasks I assigned for you?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You nod, rushing forward to help him as he throws the heavy garment across his back; "Of course, my king. I visited the armoury, stables and your seamstress as you requested." You gesture towards the package on his desk, "I also have the return of your shirt and bed coat."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Ahh I <em>had</em> wondered what you had done with those."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You smooth the shimmering bronze material over his broad shoulders and smile; "They were quite badly stained, so I delivered them to your tailor to see if she could rescue them for you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His heart softens with your thoughtful care of him and he tilts his head to look at you as you begin fussing with the layers of his sleeves. "And has she?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"She saved your coat, my lord. But your shirt had to be dyed red to salvage it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Very well. Thank you, Caltariel."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You nod absentmindedly and step back for a moment to gaze at him with a critical eye before returning to adjust the collar of his golden robes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil says nothing, enjoying your attentions and not wanting to stop you but rather take the opportunity to study you instead at such close proximity, noting how much healthier you looked after your long rest. Your eyes shone almost as brightly as your hair and he could feel the innate power of your spirit emanating from you, casting a slight glow from your soft skin and causing the air around you to tingle with a charged energy that flared his own in response. You truly were radiant, the loveliest creature he had ever laid eyes on and yet you didn't even realise it.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You hitch his cloak a little higher around his newly straightened collar and then move back to study the hang of the rich fabrics again, and he openly admires your own outfit as you do so, the dark green velvet of your floor length coat throwing stark contrast to the silver of your hair and accentuating your form in the most flattering way. A small smirk tugs at his lips as he watches your preoccupied assessment of him; "Am I not yet presentable, dearest?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You look up in surprise at his question, your face instantly growing hot when you see his expression and realise what is was you had just done. "Forgive me, my king. A soldier's habit. We're so used to assisting one another with our armour and such that it has become almost second nature. I meant no offence."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil's smile only grows, his pale eyes sparkling as he regards you somewhat fondly, finding your reactions  as endearing and fascinating as ever; "I have taken none. And you still haven't answered my question."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You relax slightly when you see no chastisement in his expression, only teasing; "You are most presentable indeed, my lord." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Good!" He offers you his arm, "Well now that you are satisfied and will not be so ashamed to be seen with your king, let us be off. It would not do to be late today."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You roll your eyes and take his arm, wondering how you could feel so content on such a day, yet all the while knowing the feeling would likely not last long once you reached the glades. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil leads you from his chambers and through the halls without another word, and you fleetingly wish you could have stayed in his rooms with him and deluded yourself that everything was fine if only for a little while longer. But it was not fine, and you feel suddenly guilty for wishing to avoid your duty to those who had given up everything in theirs. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>You sigh softly with the thought as you step out of the great gates and into the bright sunshine of the forest. He looks at you questioningly but you shake your head and give him a wan smile, not wanting to trouble him with your brooding. He seems to understand however, as he immediately slows his pace, giving you both the time you needed to prepare yourself as best you could for the sorrow that was to come.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Despite the lack of urgency in your steps, it still did not take you long to reach your destination. A short walk north from the woodland halls soon found the dense trees falling away to wide, green glades lit with sparkling shafts of pure sunlight.</p>
</div><div>
<p></p><div><p>The soft sound of lament comes from the many elves that were already there in attendance, creating a wide gathering around the large mounds that had been raised and hollowed into the soft earth of the forest floor. You release the king's arm as you approach the site of mourning, your cautious gaze passing over the faces of the masses as they move aside to let him pass and bow low upon noticing his presence.</p></div><div><p>You press closer to his side, vigilant for any sign of threat as he makes his way through them and towards the front of the congregation where a host of silver and golden haired lords and ladies awaited his attendance. Your eyes meet theirs briefly as Thranduil comes to a stop at the very edge of the barrows, and see them all staring back at you, appraising you with open curiosity, and in some cases outright shock. </p></div><div><p>The king tenses beside you and you tear your eyes away from them to follow his, seeing for yourself the rows upon rows of dead all resting on wooden litters, each one of them cleansed and dressed in gleaming armour in preparation for their final journey.</p></div><div><p>Thranduil's jaw stiffens into a hard line and his eyes darken with the abject horror of the vision that greeted him, of finally seeing the true numbers of the departed laid out before him, the image clearly burning its way into his mind.</p></div><div><p>Your own eyes sting with tears begging to fall and you take a deep breath to compose yourself, following after him as he uses all his great strength to square his shoulders and step forward to walk slowly along the rows. He takes his time, sparing a few moments to look at each and every single one of them so he would not forget them or the sacrifice they had made for him. </p></div><div><p>The king's court wait until he had reached the end of the first row and then begin to follow on; the rest of the gathered elves lining up behind them, doing the same, mourning the loss of their friends and family with quiet tears of grief and agony.</p></div><div><p>Thranduil pauses before one of his kingsguard for a moment, his eyes fixed dully on the lifeless face of one he had known well, and you can feel his pain emanating from him like hot knives, increasing your own until you were unable to bear it any longer and finally give in to your tears.</p></div><div><p>He blindly reaches out for your hand for comfort and, without thought, you gladly oblige him, clutching his fingers tightly to steady yourself as he leads you onwards and past faces of those you too had known; those you had fought and lived alongside for many years, each one of them a glass shard to your grieving heart.</p></div><div><p>For what felt like hours, you paced up and down the rows in total silence, your sorrow eventually becoming an aching numbness that settled deep within your chest; stinging like a wound that would never fully heal. Your grip tightens on the warm hand that still firmly held your own, glad of his presence beside you as you at long last come to the final row of the fallen and pay them your respects. </p></div><div><p>Passing beyond the final litter, you both turn and bow as one and then remove yourselves to your previous position at the edge of the mounds to await the rest of the procession.</p></div><div><p>You glance up at him as you stand patiently by his side, the expression on his face and the sorrow that now dwelt in his eyes breaking your heart as much as the occasion itself ever could. You run your thumb gently over the back of his hand for support and lower your voice to barely more than a whisper; "Stop it."</p></div><div><p>He tears his tormented gaze away from the dead to look at you questioningly, noting the compassionate softness behind your grief as he lowers his voice in response; "Stop what, dearest?"</p></div><div><p>"Blaming yourself."</p></div><div><p>He blinks back at you in silence, unnerved by your accurate insight into his mind and wishing it was as simple to do what you asked of him as you made it sound.</p></div><div><p>You sigh softly when you still see the clear guilt raging behind the mask of sadness he wore; "None of this was your doing, my king. We could never have escaped the war that was thrust upon us, no matter how hard you tried to protect us. If we hadn't been there the enemy would surely have claimed the mountain and how many would have died then? We all would have perished in horror and darkness before the end."</p></div><div><p>You trail off as the lords and ladies of the court approach and retake their positions on the other side of the king; and he says nothing but continues to search your face for comfort for a long moment before giving your fingers a gentle squeeze of acknowledgement and gratitude for your words.</p></div><div><p>Finally the line of mourners ends and the dead are raised up on their biers by both relatives and friends and carried to their earthly resting places beneath the eaves; the voices of the living rising up in a sweet song of lament and timeless grief as they are borne hence into the barrows.</p></div><div><p>You lend your voice to theirs, thinking of your own losses in life. There had been no bodies for you to bury after the great war, and you knew your father had been lost, as with so many others, including the king's own father, to the treacherous swamps of Dagorlad. Those that could be recovered, Thranduil had ordered buried in green hills beside the Anduin river, and now it was said their mounds were, as they were here, covered in golden flowers that bloomed all throughout the year. </p></div><div><p>The only previous funeral you had ever attended had been your mother's when she had passed from her grief a year later. Your eyes fill with renewed tears as you recollect the day you had laid her to rest and had become truly alone in the world. It had been your best friend Serindiel who had stood by you on that grievous day, and you would be forever grateful to her for not letting you face it by yourself, knowing you could not have endured the pain if you had.</p></div><div><p>You draw a deep, ragged breath when the last of the departed had been laid into the tombs, and watch as the stones are piled at their entrances to seal them permanently into darkness. The lament trails off into silence and you wipe your streaming eyes on the back of your hand and look up to find Thranduil watching you with tears of his own; knowing that he understood exactly how you felt in this moment more than anyone.</p></div><div><p>He laces his fingers with yours in solidarity and easy companionship and then turns away as the mourners begin to disperse and give the grieving families a few moments alone to say their last goodbyes.</p></div><div><p>Some of the other lords begin to approach him tentatively, but he stops them square in their tracks with a single, icy glare and instead leads you resolutely back into the forest and away from both them and the others, his pace slow and without purpose as he gives both of you the much needed time with your thoughts before returning to his halls. </p></div><div><p>Along the banks of the gushing forest river you stroll and he at last takes a deep breath of relief when you lose sight of any other company, seeming to relax and lower his guard a little. He pauses beside the churning waters and gazes into them, letting the soothing gurgling ease his heavy heart for a moment before turning to look at you; "Thank you for your words before, dear one. You can not imagine how much I needed to hear them."</p></div><div><p>You nod and give him a watery smile; "Yes, I can."</p></div><div><p>He returns your smile, searching your face for something only he knew before finally giving in to the urge he'd had for days. He releases your hand and wraps his arms around your shoulders instead, drawing you against him and shielding you with his warmth as he presses a tender kiss into your soft hair; "Yes, I do believe you can."</p></div><div><p>You tense with surprise of the gesture, but remembering your vow to not deny him of such affection you quickly relent, wondering if he needed the comfort even more than you did yourself. You allow your body to slowly relax into his and rest your head against his shoulder, hesitating for only a moment longer before tentatively wrapping your arms around him and embracing him in return.</p></div><div><p>Seeming to take confidence from your favourable reaction, he holds you even tighter and you close your eyes, listening to the sounds of the rushing waters of the river and the strong beating of his heart, lulled by the sanctuary and safety you found in his arms. "Can we stay here? Just for a little while?"</p></div><div><p>He nods and rests his head atop of yours, feeling suddenly at peace with the world and most reluctant to leave that respite himself; "Of course. For as long as you wish."</p></div><div><p>His gentle fingers begin to run through the long strands of your hair and you lean into his touch with a small sigh; "You have such a gift for this."</p></div><div><p>"For what, dearest?"</p></div><div><p>You smile, his attentions comforting you into a sleepy haze; "Hugs."</p></div><div><p>He laughs softly, the warm sound coming from deep within his chest and reverberating through your cheek; "Perhaps I have found myself a new skill, then."</p></div><div><p>"It could be a natural talent."</p></div><div><p>"Possibly.." He tilts his head to look down at you, both amused and content to see you so relaxed and enjoying his company as much as he was enjoying yours. "I may need to practise more just to know for sure."</p></div><div><p>Your smile widens and you pull back slightly to look at him, noting the mischievous glint in his eyes; "You may also have need to practise your subtlety, my king. However, I am more than happy to serve you and be a willing victim for you to hone your skills on."</p></div><div><p>He raises a dark brow, his mirth written clearly in his flawless face; "You will regret saying that. I may sneak up on you and embrace you when you least expect it." </p></div><div><p>You laugh at his expression, your heart so much lighter than it had been only moments ago; "I am all for you trying, my lord. But I am afraid you are doomed to failure before you have even begun, as you have forbidden me from letting you sneak up on me ever again."</p></div><div><p>He laughs with you then, joyous and unrestrained; "And so I did. Well, I suppose it will also give you the opportunity to hone your own skills in detecting me."</p></div><div><p>You gently extricate yourself from his arms and take his hand in yours again; "I do not need the practice, my lord. I am confident in my abilities."</p></div><div><p>He squeezes your fingers as he continues along the riverbank at a casual pace, wanting to extend this moment with you for as long as possible; "I do so love a challenge, Caltariel. You do not know what you have started."</p></div><div><p>You smile up at him, untroubled. "I am destined to be embraced either way, my lord. So I can not find it in me to regret provoking you."</p></div><div><p>"We shall see." He slips into a thoughtful silence, no doubt planning all the different ways he would make you eat your words until at last you come within view of the great doors of the woodland realm. His face falls slightly upon sight of them and you rub gently at his fingers to bring him from his pensive brooding.</p></div><div><p>"Stop it."</p></div><div><p>He raises a questioning brow and then realises that he had been frowning. "Forgive me, dearest."</p></div><div><p>"You're forgiven as long as you stop thinking whatever it was you were just thinking."</p></div><div><p>He gives you a wan smile to placate you and stop you from glaring at him. "I will try my best. But be warned that I am definitely intending to drink a whole barrel tonight. And I would certainly be most happy for your company in that endeavour."</p></div><div><p>You nod, taking pity on him; "Very well, my king. I will gladly keep you company. That is, if you are free of the many lords and ladies who were so swiftly spurned of your attention back there in the glades."</p></div><div><p>His momentary frown suddenly disappears as he studies you slyly; "I don't believe it was <em>my</em> attention they were requiring. They were watching you all the time we were there. I would have found it deliciously amusing in any other circumstance."</p></div><div><p>"Then I am sure you will have your chance to be amused tonight, my lord."</p></div><div><p>His face suddenly lights up with the possibilities; "Do try to make it entertaining for me, dearest. I am in great need of cheering up."</p></div><div><p>You laugh quietly at his almost childlike expression of glee; "And how much freedom are you offering me in such a noble endeavour, my king?"</p></div><div><p>He gazes at you full of meaning; "I do believe I gave you the rest of the day off."</p></div><div><p>You raise a thoughtful brow, coming to a standstill at the great doors to the halls; "So you did.."</p></div><div><p>He raises your hand to his lips, his pale eyes never leaving yours; "Then make good use of it, Caltariel."</p></div></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Arhestor/Arhestiel - General or High Captain (m/f)</p><p>Elleth - Elf Maid</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After parting from the king, who had excused himself to take care of some matters before the victory feast, your mind turns to one whom you had thought of during the burial of the dead. It was to her chambers you now strolled with purpose, eager to see her and idle away the short hours until the festivities began.</p><p>A lilting voice calls for you to enter as you knock on the door and you slip inside, momentarily blinded by the brightness of the excessive lanterns she always used to work by.</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>A flash of light on red hair explodes before your vision and all the air is knocked from your lungs as a small force collides with you at speed and throws its arms around you in unrestrained happiness, "There you are! I was wondering when you'd find time to actually visit!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You wrap your own arms around the tiny bundle of joy in return and hug her tightly; "Forgive me, Serindiel. I have been kept most busy and only now find myself able to come."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The copper haired elleth pulls back to look at you with a beaming smile, "It is no matter, you're here now. And at least you thought to send me a message this time so I didn't have to track down Feren just to see if you were still alive."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You laugh softly as she moves a pile of shimmering fabrics from a sofa and gestures for you to sit. "Something I'm sure Feren is very grateful for."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You sink down into the proferred chair and she pours you some tea from the pot on the hearth. "I know that deep down he appreciates my hysteria and nothing you say shall convince me otherwise!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You laugh even harder as she hands you your drink and sits herself back behind her sewing, not realising until now how much you had missed her these past days. "If you say so, dear."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She smoothes some thread between her lips and then slips it through the end of her needle before looking back at you with an impish glint in her soft, brown eyes. "So, you have been keeping the king company? Is he all you dreamed of and more or has he already broken your poor devoted heart with his ill temper?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You roll your eyes at her teasing and relax back into the cushions to sip your tea, "Far from it. He's wonderful, Seri. Just as my father always said he was."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She raises a brow as she takes up the silver-green velvet she had been working on and begins to stitch; "Indeed? He's not as stern as he appears, then?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You shake your head as you think over the moments you had spent with him that morning and the previous day; "No. He's actually very kind, and surprisingly sweet."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She smiles softly to herself when she hears the deep affection for him in your voice; "I am happy for you, my friend. I know how loyal you are to him, so I am glad to learn that he is truly deserving of it. And of you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You give her a grateful smile in response; "I have never met anyone as deserving. It has been a privilege to get to know him a little and I genuinely admire him."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She takes a mouthful of her tea and studies you carefully for a moment, "Well then, I suppose you had better not keep me in suspense any longer. Your letter was vague and you know how I love the details. Tell me everything!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You relent in the face of her curiosity and curl your feet up on to the chair as you begin to recount the events of the past few days since you had last seen her. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She listens carefully to all you had to tell her, experiencing the horror, sadness and joys of each moment along with you as you descibe it for her vividly. Only certain small details did you leave out of your tale, and those were regarding the king; not wanting to betray his confidence by revealing specific things you had noticed from the time you had spent with him, feeling such things were personal and private. Still, you give her a good enough account that she could have a fair idea of his character and your general conversation, and then you finally break the news of the position he had offered you and which you accepted. She beams with happiness and pride, celebrating your achievements with you as always as she questions you on what your duties would now entail, and you could already see her imagining the new outfits you could possibly need in your new role.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>When you fall silent at long last, she thinks over everything you had told for a moment before her thoughts return to the nobles you had mentioned and their reactions to you at the burial that morning. "Will you have to join the court now that you are the king's companion?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You shake your head, "No. Even though I believe he would welcome me gladly if I should so choose, he knows I have no interest in doing so and is fully aware of the reasons behind it. My duty is to him and to him alone. However, I feel that by remaining at his side I will still be thrust amongst them quite frequently from now on."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hmm.." She studies you thoughtfully for a moment, sensing your distaste. "How do you think they will react to that?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You frown, pondering her question seriously. "Judging by their expressions earlier, I would say they are already curious and somewhat worried that I may be a threat to them. They have no idea who I am and where I have suddenly sprung from and no doubt they are trying to find out even as we speak." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>You take a sip of tea as a dim idea forms in your mind, "Even though I will not become an official part of their social circle, I still suspect they will try to use me and influence me even as my father predicted. Maybe even more so, as I have the ear of the king as well as great standing within his army."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She grins knowingly, her eyes shining; "But you're not going to let them influence you, are you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You shake your head; "No, I am not. I am going to play them at their own games, have some fun and entertain the king all in one fell swoop. Starting tonight."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She rises to her feet with a snort; "As I thought... And I may have something here that could help you with your endeavour."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She walks over to one of the many racks that lined the walls of her chambers, searching out the items she wanted; "I made you something."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You raise a questioning brow, watching her flick through the many cloth wrapped garments that she had so lovingly created. "You did?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She nods absentmindedly, peering inside each cover, "Yes, a few things to be precise. I created a new fabric some time ago that I wanted to try out on something truly special. As I was inspired by you in the first place, I wanted you to be the first one to wear it, but it is so rare that you actually attend the festivities that I thought it would just sit here on the rack forever. "</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She plucks two garment bags from the rail with a satisfied smile and brings them over to the couch. Depositing one beside you, she begins to unwrap the other and you wait with curious anticipation to see what it contained.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She finally unties the last thread and pulls the protective cover away to reveal the most unusual gown you had ever seen in your entire life and you can do no other than stare. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Cut after the same style as the wood elves want for their occasion dresses, the gown was both sleeveless and much shorter than those that the Sindar preferred, ending at what would be just below your knees. However, instead of the usual shades of green, brown or any of the other colours that were to be found in the forest, the dress before you was like pure silver and starlight caught in rich velvet and shimmering silk.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You shift to view the floaty layers of the skirt better and the colour shifts with you, reflecting the bright light of the lanterns like liquid metal in a forge. Your eyes pass over the delicate silver and crystal embroidery around the high collar and then up to Serindiel, finding her gazing back at you almost apprehensively and awaiting your verdict; "How is this done!?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She relaxes and then grins proudly at your clear expression of awe; "Do not ask. It would be akin to me asking you to explain to me how to cast a sword. Do you like it?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You laugh softly, your eyes moving back to the dress; "Like it? Seri, it's the most beautiful gown I have ever seen in my life."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Satisfied, she lays the dress on the sofa and picks up the other garment bag, "Of course, that one is in the Silvan style. But I also made you this one to celebrate your heritage. And seeing as you are to be in the king's company tonight it would perhaps be more appropriate and befitting of your status." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She unwraps the cover from a second gown, this time in the style of those the Sindar ladies were fond of; Floor length with a low neckline and floaty sleeves, but still in the same metallic silver cloth that shifted with the light and carried the same exquisite embroidery around the bodice. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>You shake your head in awe of her skill, unable to decide which was the more beautiful. "You truly have outdone yourself this time."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She gives you a sly smile and holds the two dresses side by side for you to compare; "But which will you wear tonight?" She gestures with the longer of the two; "Will you be a lady and charm the court as well as please your king?" She holds up the shorter Silvan cut, "Or will you be a warrior and charm everyone but the court, as well as please your king?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You snort with mirth, an expression of mock indecision plastered on to your face; "I'm not sure. Is there an option for pleasing my king amongst these?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She bites her lip in the effort to keep from laughing; "I suppose it depends on <em>how</em> exactly you want to please him." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>You gasp at her wicked remark, your face instantly flushing red; "Behave yourself! The king is out of bounds."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And beautiful."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You pause defeated for a moment, unable to disagree with her on that particular point; "Incomparably so. But inaccessible as you and I both know, so stop with your teasing!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She giggles, trying to be on her best behaviour whilst you decide and then finally reach a decision. You point to the shorter of the two, "I think annoying the court, charming everyone else and pleasing my king has won out."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Excellent choice. I can not wait to see the look on their faces when you arrive wearing this. <em>Or</em> the king's." You roll your eyes as she places both garments down beside you again and moves aside to rummage in an oak dresser in the opposite corner, "I also made you these."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She throws the silver items for you to catch and you chuckle when you realise what it was you held; "Thigh scabbards? You know me too well, Seri."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Three and half thousand years tends to bring about a fairly decent understanding, sister. And I know how attached you are to your knives."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Completely unashamed by her teasing assessment in this instance, you sigh, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the effort she had made for you and the thought she had put into it; "I can not begin to thank you for this, my friend. Please tell me what I owe you for such fine work."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She frowns as she quickly scoops up the dresses to rewrap them for you; "Do not offer me insult. They are a gift."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"But, I can not accept such a mighty gift, Seri. It is far too much. Please, let me pay you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Absolutely not. I made them specifically for you so I could trial the cloth. You are doing me a favour by wearing them as you will look so radiant modelling my work that half the kingdom will want a dress or coat of their own, and I will be inundated with orders. If anyone asks, just tell them where you got it and that I can work the same fabric into any colour they could wish for. That is my price." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>You smile at the little elleth fondly, your heart bursting with love for her. "Very well. Then I shall float around the forest like Varda herself and make sure you garner so much custom you will be stitching from now until the fourth age."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She snorts with laughter pushing the newly wrapped dresses into your arms without ceremony, "You better had. Now you need to go and get ready and leave me to finish my own gown in peace. The feast will soon be upon us."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You rise and kiss her cheek, making her scrunch her face as your hair tickles at her nose. "As you say. I know when I am not wanted."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She rolls her eyes in exaggerated suffering; "You know how much I love you. Now go and make yourself look beautiful so you can show off my talents ... and please your king."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You groan at her continued teasing and head for the door, "I will see you later?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She nods, already sitting back at her sewing; "I would not miss this for anything."</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p>**</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
  <p>It was as you were brushing your hair, working the long strands into an illustrious shine that a knock came at your door. You pause in confusion having not expected a visitor and call to enter.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Feren's voice rings out in greeting from the living room below and you smile warmly as you skip down the stone steps from your bedroom to meet him, noting that he looked exceedingly handsome in robes of teal and bronze. "Arhestor, what a pleasant surprise." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He turns at the sound of your voice, his own smile faltering and his fair face swiftly falling into an expression of complete shock; "You .. you look... <em>beautiful</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You bow before him, surprised by such words from the quiet and reserved elf. "Thank you. As do you, I might add. Very dashing indeed."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Speechless, he continues to study you for a moment before finally composing himself and gesturing towards your gown; "Serindiel's exquisite work, I take it?" When you nod in confirmation he continues, "Well I have to say she has outdone herself this time. You are positively dazzling and will be the talk of the entire kingdom tonight. Not to mention the court."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You suddenly avoid his gaze, your face falling into a mask of innocence and he grins slyly, not fooled for a moment; "You knew that already, didn't you?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I have no idea what you could possibly mean, Arhestor."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Hmm.." He chuckles, amused by the game, "Speaking of which, I have just come from the king and he informed me of the happy news on your new position. I wanted to come and be the first to congratulate you." He reaches out to lay a hand on your shoulder, bringing your eyes back to his, "You continue to make me extremely proud. More than I can ever say."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You flush at his high praise, a rarity when it came to him, even though you knew him to be incredibly kind; "Thank you, Feren. Although I feel extremely undeserving."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He makes a small sound of disapproval and waves away your words with a frown; "Nonsense. I have never come across one so deserving of this or any other honour in all my life. Which brings me to the other reason I am here.. I have something for you.." he reaches into an inside pocket of his coat, "We could think of no one better to succeed Amlaith and we think he would also be proud to have you take his place. The vote was unanimous. The second company is yours.. <em>Arhestiel</em>."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He opens his palm and you stare stunned at the silver and white crystal stag pin that rested against his skin, unable to process his words for a moment. "You're  .. you are giving me half of the army?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He nods, smiling at your expression as he holds the pin out to you; "We are giving you half of the army. Do you accept our decision?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You take a deep breath to try and regain your composure and slow the frantic beating of your heart. With trembling hands, you bow low before him; "You honour me, Arhestor. I am proud to serve."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He nods in satisfaction and motions for you to rise so he can carefully attach the pin to the collar of your dress; "And you have served well. May you continue to do so. "</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You surprise him then, when after having attached the brooch to the soft velvet, you throw your arms around him and embrace him tightly, feeling quite overwhelmed; "Thank you, Feren. For everything. You have always watched over me and have been a better friend than I ever could have wished for."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Smiling at your words, he embraces you in return, his gentle eyes oddly bright. "I will always watch over you, and I am proud indeed to call you my friend." He rubs your back as you squeeze him all the tighter; "Now will you stop hugging me and finish getting ready? Your captains are waiting to escort you to the king, and I must say that I am most eager to see his face when you arrive looking like that."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your face turns scarlet and you punch him lightly on the arm as you pull back; "Careful. Now that I am no longer your subordinate I shall not be so averse to fighting you before the reel."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He clutches his arm in mock pain, his laughter joyous and musical. "Already abusing your new powers, I see!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You snort with mirth and roll your eyes as you take the steps two at a time back up to your bedroom to finish getting ready while he waited.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Quickly finishing off with your hair, you open a small box on your dresser and come face to face with a bright silver circlet that had once belonged to your mother. You smile sadly in remembrance and run your fingers lightly over the intertwined metal that made up delicate band, before lifting it carefully from its bed of velvet and placing it upon your head to hold back the loose tresses.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You adjust it carefully until it was centred on your brow and then reach out for the ceremonial belt you had been presented with when you became a captain in the king's army. You tighten the thin, silver strip around your waist and attach to it the strap for which had been made for you to hang your sword.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>After the weapon was secured to your hip you snatch up your knives, lifting your skirts to slide them into the sheaths already in position at the tops of your thighs. You let the floaty material fall back down to your knees and stand to study your reflection one last time, taking a moment to compose yourself.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your eyes pass over the stag pin that now glittered at your throat and once again you feel slightly overwhelmed. In the past two days you had gone from being a captain in the king's army, a position of respect in itself and one you had worked extremely hard for and had been proud of, to becoming perhaps the most powerful person in the kingdom after the king himself. The very thought left you petrified and yet also feeling extremely honoured by the trust that was being shown in you. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Not only were you the king's own sword, but you were now, along with Feren, responsible for his entire army. Not even your father had been able to boast as such, having chosen the path of the kingsguard before being anointed as Thranduil's shield; a road that you too had expected to take.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You wonder now more than ever if he would have been proud of you and what he would have said to you in this moment, wishing that he could be here to see what you had achieved and lend you his wisdom to guide you throughout this momentous transition.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You sigh with the thought and then turn away from your reflection and head back down the stairs to where Feren still awaited you, not wanting to keep him much longer. He smiles appreciatively when he sees your new accessories and then offers you his arm; "Shall we?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You return his smile and nod, thinking that there could be no one better to lead you on to the new life that awaited you in your father's place.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>**</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil tears himself away from his conversation with one of the lords when he hears the merry music fade to silence and the barely concealed whispers rising up from the rest of the surrounding nobility. He glances towards them in confusion, wondering what could have stirred them, and then follows their eyes towards the lantern lit avenue of trees that stretched out long before him. </p>
</div><div>
<p></p><div><p>His pale gaze comes to rest first on Feren leading a company of captains from both the border and kingsguard, and then to a second company of army captains that walked alongside them, and the high captain they now followed.</p></div><div><p>He can do no other than sit in stunned silence and watch as you approach him, dipping your head towards the Silvan masses that now parted before you and bowed low with deepest respect and admiration.</p></div><div><p>You were positively indecent, in the purest sense, everything that he and his father had wished and hoped for when they had set out to build their new kingdom after the great war, and he wished with all his heart that Oropher could be here with him right now to witness that vision finally come to fruition.</p></div><div><p>He tilts his head as he regards you with reverence, taking in every detail of you along with everyone else. Your white hair you wore loose in a tumbling cascade of pure starlight, only held back by a silver circlet that rested shining upon your brow; and your arms and throat were left bared by the cut of your dress - your pale skin gleaming with a light all of its own, a reflection of the great power of spirit that resided within you. And your gown itself, whilst in the same cut and style as those of the Silvan elleths who followed you, was made as though of pure metal; the shimmering silk and crushed velvets shifting and moving in the light of the setting sun to throw out all the shades of a thunderstorm - from deepest grey, to steel and then to fairest silver and starlight, the colour standing out in stark contrast to the rich forest colours of your companions.</p></div><div><p>Thranduil's admiring gaze drifts the entire length of you, from the shining silver sword belt you wore at your waist to the floating fabrics of your skirts which ended just below your knees; he studies the way the rich cloth clung about your form for a moment before allowing his eyes to continue down the creamy skin of your legs and then to your bare feet.</p></div><div><p>The whispers grow louder as you move closer and Thranduil's eyes flick to the surrounding Sindar nobles, noting their expressions of shock and outrage at one of their own dressing so audaciously and in the manner of the wood elves they always found so uncouth and wild. A small smile of satisfaction tugs at the corners of his lips and then he turns his attention firmly back to you.</p></div><div><p>You finally reach his woodland seat and come to an immediate standstill, your respective companies following suit in one fluid and coordinated movement. You all bow low as one before him, remaining as statues in the pose of fealty as Feren alone straightens up and steps forward, his eyes shining with pride as he gestures towards you; "My king. The captains and I are honoured to present to you the new Arhestiel of the second company by unanimous decision. Tell us, are you satisfied with our choice?"</p></div><div><p>You smile softly to yourself, knowing it was only a polite formality to announce the news to the entire kingdom, and that the king himself would in no way refuse you of the position, but enjoying having it played out before the court anyway just to give them something else to whisper about.</p></div><div><p>Thranduil regards you for the appropriate amount of time before inclining his silver head in the proper fashion. "I am well satisfied. You and your captains may rise, Arhestiel. And I shall look forward to seeing you lead the reel of knives later."</p></div><div><p>"You honour me, my king."</p></div><div><p>You straighten up to smile at him and then motion for your company to depart and join the festivities. Feren also excuses himself with a bow and a wink, leaving you alone to be greeted by and converse with the king.</p></div><div><p>Thranduil claps for the musicians to play again and then beckons you closer. He rises to greet you properly with a kiss to your hand; "Congratulations, dearest. Your father would be beyond proud of you, as am I."</p></div><div><p>"Thank you, my lord."</p></div><div><p>Smiling fondly, he leads you back to his seat and motions for you to sit beside him on the natural bench amongst the wide roots of the ancient oak tree that was his forest throne. You settle at his side as he pours you a glass of wine. "Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance." </p></div><div><p>You laugh softly as he hands you your drink; "It would also seem you have managed to earn the disapproval of the entire court, Caltariel."</p></div><div><p>You lift your eyes to his, untroubled. "Have I earned yours?"</p></div><div><p>He shakes his regal head, unable to look away from you; "Quite the opposite."</p></div><div><p>You take a sip of wine, ignoring the many pointed looks being cast in your direction and concentrating only on him; "Then I care not."</p></div><div><p>He laughs quietly in agreement; "Then that makes for both of us. I can almost feel their eyes burning through my head as we speak. Well played, dearest."</p></div><div><p>You regard him fondly over the rim of your glass, content to see him happy; "You are entertained thus far, then?"</p></div><div><p>He nods fervently, "More than you realise, as I also happen to think you look inconceivably beautiful. I feel most sorry for the hearts you will break tonight."</p></div><div><p>You groan in exasperation, instantly feeling the heat flood into your face, "Why do you tease me so?"</p></div><div><p>He leans in conspiratorially to whisper in your ear, his warm breath spilling against the soft skin of your neck and making you shiver; "Because your reactions when I do are so endearing, I can not seem to help myself."</p></div><div><p>He pulls back only slightly to look at you, his eyes gleaming in light of your embarrassment; "However, is it really teasing if it is true?"</p></div><div><p>"My lord, <em>please</em>.." </p></div><div><p>He smirks in satisfaction of getting the required response and you can do no more than glare at him, which amuses him even more. "You are so wicked.."</p></div><div><p>He takes a sip of his drink and nods in agreement, entirely unashamed. "Yes I am. And you had better ready yourself, dearest. The first broken heart is already heading our way."</p></div><div><p>You follow his gaze to where one of the golden haired lords had broken away from his fellows and was now approaching you with a deceptively innocent expression. You sigh, wishing they could just leave well alone and let you enjoy your evening in the king's company. "Who is he?"</p></div><div><p>Thranduil leans in to whisper to you again, "Lord Taron. And I say <em>lord </em>very lightly. He's a lesser noble of my grandfather's house but believes himself to be a great scholar and poet."</p></div><div><p>"And is he?"</p></div><div><p>Thranduil snorts softly into your ear, his silver hair tickling your cheek; "If you could call hours of endless, nonsensical babbling poetry, then yes."</p></div><div><p>You giggle into your glass and he straightens back up as Taron approaches the king's seat and bows low before him. "My king." </p></div><div><p>Thranduil inclines his head in response and the noble's blue eyes fall to you as he bows again; "My lady. Forgive me my rudeness, but I can not recall your name?" </p></div><div><p>You dip your head courteously in reply; "I am no lady, Lord Taron. And there is nothing to forgive, for I have not given my name."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil emerges from his cup in an instant, his eyes flicking up to yours in an expression caught somewhere between absolute shock and wicked delight, but you ignore him and keep your attention firmly fixed on the golden haired elf before you, watching as he squirms in awkward embarrassment; "Yes, you are quite right. How forgetful of me."</p></div><div><p>He takes a deep breath to compose himself before meeting your eyes again; "I was wondering if you would care to dance?"</p></div><div><p>Thranduil raises a brow, also awaiting your answer with interest, "Perhaps later, Lord Taron. I feel we should not deprive our beloved king of his company so soon after my arrival, and, as you will no doubt be aware, it is the tradition of a new general to dance the first reel with their captains in honour of that same king."</p></div><div><p>Taron's face turns scarlet and he looks like he would love nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole, "Of course, forgive me. It seems that I am unable to remember even the most simplest of things this evening. Perhaps later, then." He bows quickly to both of you again before scurrying off as fast as he could without seeming rude.</p></div><div><p>Thranduil stares at you as you take a nonchalant sip of your wine and watch him depart, "When did we start such a tradition?"</p></div><div><p>Your eyes follow Taron as he rejoins the rest of his party, his face still burning with shame, "We didn't. But he apparently doesn't know that."</p></div><div><p>The elven king snorts with mirth at your cunning, "And you have the audacity to say that <em>I </em>am wicked? I have never seen a heart broken with such swift and indifferent efficiency."</p></div><div><p>You turn your attention back on him to find a mischievous smirk written all over his flawless face; "You <em>are</em> wicked. And he will recover from his pain quite quickly, I am sure. Their desperate need for information will have him returning for further rejection before the night is old."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil laughs then, the pure and joyous chuckle that came from deep within his chest and which you loved so much; "I will admit that I have been as guilty as they are of underestimating you, dearest. It would seem you already have their motives and intentions well figured out."</p></div><div><p>You wink at him conspiratorially and lean in to whisper into his ear; "They will get no joy from me. My father tutored me on much more than swordplay, and I have only ever before surrendered to you in a battle of will or words."</p></div><div><p>"Then I am grateful to you for your kindness. I would not like to find myself in Taron's position and nursing a broken heart from your rejection."</p></div><div><p>You laugh softly and shake your head, unwilling to be drawn into his teasing again; "Your heart is inaccessible, my lord. So I would never be able to break it even in the unlikely event that I wanted to."</p></div><div><p>He falls silent for a moment, pondering your words. "Do you truly believe that?"</p></div><div><p>You tilt your chin to look at him, surprised by the serious expression he now wore. "Of course."</p></div><div><p>His eyes hold yours, searching your soul and you suddenly become very aware of his proximity and the heat of the charged current that emanated from within him.</p></div><div><p>"This is becoming quite a habit of yours."</p></div><div><p>You raise a questioning brow; "What is, my king?"</p></div><div><p>He takes a deep breath and reluctantly turns away, releasing you from his gaze; "Being so mistaken."</p></div></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sun sets and dusk turns to night, bright stars twinkling from the heavens with a radiance to rival even the fair elven lanterns that were strewn amongst the branches below.</p>
<p></p><div>
<p></p><div><p>The crowd gathers in and the drums begin to pound, beating a slow rhythm that echoed throughout the forest and into the night. </p></div><div><p>The king gives an almost imperceptible nod and you withdraw your swords as one, perfectly attuned to his every whim and command.</p></div><div><p>Feren shifts and you shift with him, the captains all following suit in one perfectly coordinated movement as you begin to step in time with the beat, flowing through the well practised forms that were designed solely to maintain your agility and grace in battle.</p></div><div><p>Thranduil watches from his seat, his eyes gleaming as he studies the flawless precision of each perfectly timed exercise that this dance was created to showcase; and he couldn't help but feel an immense pride and satisfaction of possessing such an elite force as he believed were unmatched in all of Middle Earth.</p></div><div><p>His eyes fall to you as the pounding of the drums increases, your face reflecting only peaceful calm as you move your blade around your body with almost easy mastery, highlighting for all to see the level of skill and dedication that you undoubtably possessed.</p></div><div><p>Bare feet sink into soft earth as each captain begins to stamp in time with the rhythm, and the tempo quickens, the lamplight gleaming from bright elven steel in a bewitching dance all of its own. </p></div><div><p>Undulating bodies become nothing more than blurs of greens, browns and silver, shifting around one another with a speed that no other race could ever hope to master, and the crowd holds its breath as one, fully immersed in the dance and awaiting their king's command.</p></div><div><p>Thranduil lets the hypnotic display continue for a moment longer and then raises his finger barely a fraction from the arm of his seat. </p></div><div><p>The drums fade and the company reacts in an instant, stepping back into formation in one fluid movement and sheathing their swords, leaving only you and Feren stood apart with blades still in hand.</p></div><div><p>You both bow to the king and then turn to face each other and do the same. Your respective companies move aside with the crowd to give you more space and the new dance begins.</p></div><div><p>You adjust the grip on your sword and return to your meditative centre as the drums hit out a new rhythm, steady like your heartbeat. You study Feren carefully as he does the same, waiting patiently for the king's silent command. The moments linger, the seconds counted out by your gentle breathing until the order finally comes and the captain launches himself into the attack against you.</p></div><div><p>You block his blade easily on the flat of your own, paying close attention to the way he moved. You had never once fought him before, but you had seen him in action often enough to know he was a most formidable opponent, and you were determined not to underestimate him even for a second.</p></div><div><p>He circles you, then returns to the offense and you meet him halfway, your blades joining and separating along with your bodies as you dance around one another and search for an advantage. </p></div><div><p>The ringing of cold steel lends its melody to the beat of the drums, which as before become ever faster, and you give yourself over to their rhythmic pounding, becoming one with your blade and the very air around you.</p></div><div><p>Feren jumps away, the gleam of battle burning fiercely in his eyes and you follow fluidly, giving him no time for respite as you bring your sword about in a graceful arc to disarm him. He laughs as he blocks you and you laugh with him when he counters with frightening speed and looks to do the same.</p></div><div><p>Your swords lock and you find yourself pressed up against him for a moment, feeling the intense heat that emanated from his body flooding into your own. He grins down at you with immense pride before swiftly tearing himself away with a clash of steel upon steel.</p></div><div><p>Back and forth you both danced, gliding with fluid grace around the glade. The drums eventually fade to silence when even they can no longer match the speed of the silver and teal blurs that you allowed yourselves to become in your great effort to best one another, and the contest of arms rages on into the night. </p></div><div><p>The gathered elves watch in breathless anticipation along with their king, not one of them able to decide who would emerge victorious from this well matched display. The silence becomes almost palpable, only broken by the clear ring of clashing steel and then a great gasp erupts from the crowd as a sword suddenly arches its way through the air to embed itself firmly into the mossy earth of the forest floor. </p></div><div><p>All eyes turn back to the combatants and you stand before them, chest heaving with the exertion and sword still firmly in hand as an unarmed Feren bows low before you in submission; "How swift is thy blade!"</p></div><div><p>You sheath your own weapon and then stalk across the glade to retrieve his sword and offer it back to him with a bow of your own, ignoring the expressions of astonishment on the faces of your audience as you publically pay him the ultimate respect. "It was an honour to spar with such a master as you, Arhestor."</p></div><div><p>He inclines his head in gratitude for your courtesy as he sheaths the blade home; "The honour was all mine. But you do not bow to me anymore, my friend. Nor to anyone but the king."</p></div><div><p>You reach out to grasp his arm, your heart full of affection and admiration for him; "I will always bow to you, Feren."</p></div><div><p>A sudden sound amongst the silence brings your attention back to the king, and you both look up in surprise to see him stood before his chair and applauding the touching scene playing out before him. </p></div><div><p>A split second lingers where he claps alone and then the crowd joins in, cheering loudly and celebrating along with him. Your face breaks into an easy smile and you look back to Feren with shining eyes, noting his overwhelmed expression as you reach out to embrace him. The masses cheer even louder and he hugs you back tightly for a moment, his heart filled with love for you even as yours was for him.</p></div><div><p>The kings approaches and you separate and bow low before him. He smiles with pride as he motions for you both to rise; "That was the most incredible display I have ever witnessed and a privilege to watch. It comforts me greatly to know our realm is in such safe hands."</p></div><div><p>You both bow again in gratitude of his words and the king turns towards the rest; "Let us not tarry any longer. We must honour that worthy contest with food and song!"</p></div><div><p>The elves cheer again as a merry tune begins to float down through the trees and they rush off to bring out the drink and stoke the cookfires. Feren clasps your arm and then inclines his head to the king; excusing himself only after extracting a firm promise from you to dance with him later on. </p></div><div><p>He rejoins his men and begins to assist in rolling out the barrels of mead with great enthusiasm, and you laugh at his eagerness to start the party in earnest until a warm hand closes around your own. "Shall we?"</p></div><div><p>Thranduil motions back towards his seat and you nod, letting him lead you. He waits for you to settle beside him once again before handing you a drink with a fond smile; "That was a very moving thing you said back there, dearest."</p></div><div><p>You raise a questioning brow and he nods to where Feren was now cracking open a large cask with his sword to great applause. You follow his gaze and smile at the sight; "And I meant it. He has always looked out for me as a father in the absence of my own, and I do not think he will ever truly realise how grateful I am to him, nor how much I love and admire him."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil's pale eyes soften at your words; "Feren is a good and loyal person. I am most thankful to know him and glad that he has been there for both of us all these years. And I am also grateful to you for showing him such respect even in the face of his defeat. He is very deserving of it and others will now know that too."</p></div><div><p>You nod in agreement; "I would never be able to show him anything other than the utmost respect. He is my friend."</p></div><div><p>"As it should be. I just wish there were more who thought as you do."</p></div><div><p>His gaze drifts over the court for a moment and then he takes a long draft from his cup before turning his attention back to you; "You looked exquisite out there by the way, and I am truly admiring this flawless gown of yours." He tilts his head as he studies the shifting shades in the light of the lantern above, "I have never seen such an unusual colour and the embroidery and cloth are divine."</p></div><div><p>You look down and study the fabric again for yourself, "Both the cloth and the dress were made by another dear friend of mine."</p></div><div><p>He raises a curious brow, "Indeed? Then they have quite the talent and I am most intrigued to know how this is done."</p></div><div><p>You smile up at him with a sudden thought, "She is the most talented person I know, and I am sure she would be most happy to hear of your high praise and tell you herself how it is done.. That is... if you would care to meet her?"</p></div><div><p>He gazes back at you with steady eyes, his heart warming with the notion that you were willing to offer him some insight into your personal life and its relationships. "I would be honoured to meet her, and for no other reason than she is your great friend."</p></div><div><p>You place your cup down on the small table beside the seat and squeeze his arm before rising to your feet, "Excuse me for just a moment then and I shall grant you your wish." </p></div><div><p>You bow to him swiftly before heading back down the avenue of trees to search her out, and Thranduil watches you with fascination, noting the way the people greeted you and called out to you as you passed through their merry gatherings, sees for himself the way they teased you and embraced you as one of them, their happy faces alight with affection; and for a fleeting moment he feels an almost sorrowful regret that he would never know that kind of love from them himself.</p></div><div><p>You suddenly disappear from his sight and into the crowd as you spot her beside a large cookfire and talking to some smiths; who all instantly make her aware of your presence by bowing to you as one. Her sweet face lights up as you return their bow in greeting; "Well if it isn't the new Arhestiel! That was an incredible display with Feren, I must say!" She pauses then with sudden confusion, "But what are you doing down here, my friend? I thought you were meant to be in the king's company?"</p></div><div><p>You bend to kiss her cheek and nod, "I am. But he wants to meet you."</p></div><div><p>Her smile falters as she processes your words and then her eyes go wide and all the colour drains from her fair face, "<em>He</em>... but... <em>what</em>?"</p></div><div><p>You giggle at her expression and take her hand, "Come on, Seri. He is waiting."</p></div><div><p>You excuse the both of you from the others and then begin to pull her back the way you had come without another word. She stumbles along beside you and gazes up at you in complete trepidation; "But.. why would <em>he</em> want to meet <em>me</em>?"</p></div><div><p>"Maybe because the dress you made has indeed pleased him greatly." </p></div><div><p>She chews her lip and you sigh when you can't even draw out the usual smile from behind her expression of extreme anxiety. You squeeze her hand gently in comfort; "Just relax, will you? He's beyond lovely, you'll see."</p></div><div><p>She gives you a pained grimace and then begins to take deep breaths in a vain effort to compose herself, and you could feel her quaking beneath your fingertips.</p></div><div><p>Thranduil watches with interest as you suddenly re-emerge from the crowd, dragging a petrified looking elleth along behind you. She was the tiniest and daintiest creature he had ever seen, the top of her copper coloured head not even reaching your shoulder, and he couldn't contain his new amusement at the sweet and endearing sight you made together; complete opposites in every regard and yet with something so wholesome in the obvious affection he could sense between you both.</p></div><div><p>He smiles as you come to a standstill before his seat and pull her out from her hiding place behind you; brandishing her with a proud flourish as though she was your favourite childhood doll. "My king. May I present to you my dearest friend upon this earth, Serindiel. Who also happens to be the most talented tailor and clothier in your entire kingdom."</p></div><div><p>Her face flushes scarlet, and unable to meet his eyes, she bows low before him, her tiny voice trembling; "My king. It is an honour."</p></div><div><p>You gaze at her fondly and Thranduil's smile only grows. He rises from his seat to stand tall before her, regarding her thoughtfully for a moment and seeing clearly her immense fear of him. Looking to alleviate the little elleth's nerves, he bends to take her hand and bring it to his lips; "The honour is all mine, Serindiel. And I am truly sorry to startle you and pull you away from the festivities, but I felt I had to congratulate you personally for this exquisite gown I hear you are responsible for. I have never seen such artistry and I simply must have you make something for me."</p></div><div><p>Her face burns hotter as he kisses her fingers and then releases her, but you could see the expression of pride she wore even behind her curtain of red hair and even redder cheeks; "I thank you for your kind words and high praise, my king. It would of course be a privilege to create something for you if you should wish it."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil motions back to his seat, "Perhaps you could join us for a drink then and we can discuss it? I admit I am curious to know how exactly it is that you created this striking cloth."</p></div><div><p>Her surprise finally outweighs her nerves and she tears her eyes away from her feet to find him gazing at her with unexpected gentleness; "Of course, my king. It would be an honour to join you."</p></div><div><p>You give him a grateful smile as he ushers her towards the bench, your heart swelling with deepest affection for him in light of the kindness he was showing towards one whom you loved as a sister.</p></div><div><p>He winks in response and then pours the wine as you settle on either side of him; and you couldn't help but grin as you see her perched nervously on the edge of the seat, reminding you very much of the first time you yourself had sat with the king. It seemed to you now as though it was a lifetime ago when it was, in fact, only yesterday.</p></div><div><p>The thought surprises you, and you reflect with wonder at just how much had changed for you in such a short space of time as, beyond such inhibitions now, you relax by his side as though you belonged there and it was the most natural place for you to be.</p></div><div><p>Thranduil hands the both of you a drink and then, without giving her the time to become more anxious, starts to question Serindiel on everything from how she had learned her craft to her methods, having a vain weakness for the art of fine tailoring himself. You watch with silent amusement as his charm quickly has her won over, and she soon begins to forget her fear and instead regales him in enthusiastic detail as though he was an old friend; while he listens with genuine interest to all she had to tell him.</p></div><div><p>You smile in contentment as you look out over the festivities, feeling satisfied and happy just to be in the company of two of your favourite people and enjoying the wine and music for once in peace and tranquillity. </p></div><div><p>Your eyes pass over the lanterns that were strewn about the trees and shining their soft glow on the many musicians who were sat in the wide branches strumming their instruments. They strike up yet another merry tune and a small band of laughing elves begin dancing around a fire, the flames reflecting from the reds and browns of their long tresses as they join hands and spin faster as the tempo increases.</p></div><div><p>You laugh quietly to yourself as you watch them, the whimsical nature of your kind not lost even on you this fair evening. You continue to study them until the dance concludes and then move on with your fascinated surveying of the masses.</p></div><div><p>A short distance away, Feren drinks with some of his and your captains, one of which appeared to be entertaining the rest with an amusing war story. The laughter rings out loud and often and your smile only grows at seeing them so merry and carefree for once, a rarity considering the burdens you knew most of them still carried from ages long past.</p></div><div><p>Feren notices you watching him and raises his glass to you with a smile of his own. You raise your cup in response and then move on as he returns his attention back to his men. Your gaze passes instead towards the nobles gathered in the small glade to your right and you study them for a while, noting immediately the marked difference in atmosphere.</p></div><div><p>While the rest of the population were engaged in happy revelry, these elves sat apart, lounging on velvet cushions and soft blankets or standing beside the firepit in quiet discussion; and not a genuine smile was to be had from any of them in their pursuit to appear more dignified and lofty than their woodland kin.</p></div><div><p>You study the ladies amongst them, their gold and silver tresses gleaming fair in the soft light from above as they gossip over their wine glasses regarding the latest fashions; and then your eyes shift to the lords as they engage themselves in talk of politics and trade, and argue over the current price of silver and silk. Your curious gaze passes over Lord Taron, obviously reciting his poetry judging by the faces of his companions, and then pauses upon a lithe elf lord stood apart from the rest, paying no attention to any of them as he leans against the knarly trunk of a tall oak and stares directly at you.</p></div><div><p>You raise a questioning brow, but rather than look away he continues to gaze at you openly and unashamed. Refusing to back down you meet his eyes and hold them, noting that he was extremely handsome, with bright golden hair, fair features and a stature both tall and strong.</p></div><div><p>He smirks at the silent battle of wills and raises his glass to you in a toast. You nod to him in acknowledgement of his courtesy and he winks, an almost indecent glint in his topaz eyes. You can't help but smile at his audacious behaviour, and incline your head in appreciation of his boldness before turning your attention back to the king as he suddenly looks your way.</p></div><div><p>"What do you think, Caltariel?"</p></div><div><p>"Hmm?"</p></div><div><p>You glance to him questioningly, having not paid any notice at all to his conversation with Serindiel; "About what, my lord?"</p></div><div><p>He smiles in amusement of your dreamy expression and then gestures towards his clothes; "What do you think our dear friend Serindiel should create for me?"</p></div><div><p>"Oh.." You return your focus back to him and give him your full attention. "Perhaps a coat? I noticed you admiring my own this morning."</p></div><div><p>He raises a thick brow, his cheeks dimpling in a way that could only mean trouble, "I was actually admiring <em>you</em>, not the coat. Although the garment was quite beautiful too, now that I think on it."</p></div><div><p>Serindiel snorts in full appreciation of his wicked humour and you peer around the king to glare at her; "Don't you dare encourage his teasing. He's impossible enough already!"</p></div><div><p>She laughs even harder at the look on your face and Thranduil laughs with her, making you suddenly feel very outnumbered and ganged up on. He holds his hands up in surrender as you turn your ire on him and looks to placate you by taking your suggestion more seriously, "A coat, you say? And what colour do you believe it should be, dearest?"</p></div><div><p>You scowl darkly at him for a moment to make sure he was going to behave himself before considering his question; "I would say you look elegant in almost any colour, my lord. I do especially favour red on you, but perhaps something a little more unusual would be worth trying in this instance?"</p></div><div><p>You study him deep in thought and he waits patiently, extremely interested to know your thoughts on the matter. You chew your lip as you ponder and then meet his eyes again with a smirk of pure revenge; "A pale blue perhaps? Something icy, like your wicked heart."</p></div><div><p>Serindiel gasps at your bold remark, her eyes flicking fearfully to the king, but Thranduil only slaps a hand to his chest as though shot, feigning injury with theatrical perfection; and both you and she collapse into fits of giggles. He laughs with you and once again you feel a surge of affection for him and the happy, unburdened expression he wore, grateful to see him so relaxed and untroubled.</p></div><div><p>You take a deep breath to compose yourself and then grin at him apologetically; "Forgive me, sweet king. But you can not expect me to let your teasing go unanswered, surely?" </p></div><div><p>He shakes his silver head, beyond amused; "Absolutely not. Although I do find your statement to be rather hypocritical considering your cold dismissal of Lord Taron, dearest."</p></div><div><p>Serindiel wipes her eyes on her hand and bites her lip to keep from further laughter; "There isn't an elf alive who could tempt <em>her</em>, my lord. She only has room in her heart for <em>you</em>."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil raises a brow, an appreciative smirk plastered all over his flawless face; "Is that so?"</p></div><div><p>You roll your eyes, feigning a long-suffering sigh and they both succumb to their laughter again. You drink your wine in dignified silence and ignore the both of them, your eyes falling once again to the elf lord you had noticed earlier, only to find him still watching you with interest.</p></div><div><p>Thranduil composes himself a little when he notices your new distraction and follows your gaze. The elf lord immediately turns away when the king's attention settles on him and swiftly joins a party in deep discussion around a firepit.</p></div><div><p>Warm fingers reach out for your own as Thranduil draws your eyes back to him, his expression now far more serious; "So the coat you think should be blue?"</p></div><div><p>You nod, still deep in thought, "Yes. The same shade as your eyes. With silver stag embroidery and clasp fastenings."</p></div><div><p>He turns to Serindiel without releasing your hand and she looks between the both of you curiously, wondering at the sudden change in atmosphere.</p></div><div><p>"Is that possible?"</p></div><div><p>She nods, flushing as she gazes awkwardly into his eyes for a better idea of the colour; "I believe so, my lord. I will trial some samples for you tomorrow and you can say which you prefer."</p></div><div><p>He nods in agreement and she looks to you sheepishly, feeling guilty for teasing you and looking to make it equal by turning it on herself; "I will need some help with taking the king's measurements my friend, unless you want to lift me up or find me a very high box?"</p></div><div><p>You smirk mischievously over the rim of your cup; "Perhaps a ladder would be more suitable in this instance?"</p></div><div><p>You all collapse into peals of laughter again and only stop to draw breath when Lord Taron finally manages to pluck up the courage for a second attempt. Thranduil spots him approaching from the corner of his eye and nudges you quickly; "Incoming, dearest."</p></div><div><p>You follow his gaze with an exasperated groan, and he takes pity on you, turning quickly to Serindiel, "Take her and dance with the others for a while. I will get rid of him."</p></div><div><p>She bows her head, giving you just enough time to place down your cup before she grabs your hand and drags you away from the king and in the direction of the crowd. </p></div><div><p>She giggles happily, already quite merry with the wine, and you allow yourself to be pulled into the masses and hidden from the sight of a bemused looking Taron, who can now do no other than find some excuse to talk with the king to avoid looking foolish.</p></div><div><p>Serindiel comes to a stop behind a large tree, breathless and glowing; "Did we lose him?"</p></div><div><p>You pause beside her to rest a moment and nod; "I think so. However, I now worry that the poor king will have to endure listening to his poetry for my sake."</p></div></div><div>
  <p>She snorts, a knowing glint in her eyes, "I'm sure he is used to it and finds you to be worth it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You laugh softly as you straighten up to regard her with amusement; "I take it you like him, then?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She nods fervently; "I do indeed. He <em>is</em> wonderful - everything you said he would be and more. And can you believe he wants me to create a garment for him? I never believed that I would receive such an honour."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You wrap your arms around her and hug her tightly; "I can believe it. You have no idea how talented you are and you're worthy of such honour and more."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She chuckles and squeezes you back; "I knew if you wore this dress you would garner me some custom, but I never expected it to be from the king himself. Now with him and the Arhestiel both wearing my work I will have more demand than I can cope with!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You pull back to look at her fondly; "I did nothing. You owe it all to yourself and your hard work."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Are you two beautiful ladies going to stay behind this tree gossiping like a pair of old maids, or is one of you actually going to dance with me?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You jump as Feren pokes his head around the weathered trunk and eyes you both curiously, his gait already quite unsteady with mead. "Maybe you can dance with Seri? She was only saying this very afternoon how much she had missed you, Feren."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Was she now?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The little elleth rolls her eyes at you but takes his hand as he offers it anyway, and you watch in amusement as he whisks her off back into the crowd and starts spinning her around in a merry jig.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You observe them happily for a moment and then the slightest snapping of a twig sounds from behind, pulling you from your fanciful musings. You fold your arms, a knowing smirk upon your lips; "I was wondering how long it would take you."</p>
  <p> </p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A bit angsty this one. Totally not sorry :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><div><p>The heat of a body invades your space, and a warm, lilting voice brushes against your ear as the unseen figure leans in close; "The king watches over you like a hawk Arhestiel, and I thought I would never get the chance. But it seems Taron has his uses, after all."</p>
<p></p><div><p>"Indeed." You turn slowly to come face to face with the handsome, golden-haired elf lord who had been watching you with such intrigue from the glade; and he does so again, his crystal eyes eagerly roaming your face, taking the opportunity to study you in much closer detail.</p></div><div><p>"I must say, I am impressed that you heard me. I thought I was as quiet as a fieldmouse."</p></div><div><p>You raise a brow as his topaz gaze finally meets yours; "You thought wrong."</p></div><div><p>"So it would seem." He takes your fingers in his and presses a gentle kiss to the back of your hand as he bows before you; "Ríanor, at your service."</p></div><div><p>You return his bow courteously; "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lord Ríanor."</p></div><div><p>He smiles and gestures back into the shadows of the trees. "Would you take a walk with me, Arhestiel?"</p>
<p></p><div><p>You hesitate cautiously, but finding no real reason to be able to deny his request, you finally consent with a nod. "Very well."</p></div><div><p>He offers you his arm immediately and you take it, letting him lead you further away from the revelry and deeper into the forest to afford you both some privacy.</p></div><div><p>He walks beside you in a companionable silence until you were out of earshot of the nearest gathering and then broaches the subject you had been expecting; "You have caused quite the stir amongst the court, you realise?"</p></div><div><p>You glance up at him, entirely untroubled; "Yes. I figured as such when I saw their reactions this morning. I would have found it all quite amusing had the occasion not been so sombre."</p></div><div><p>"Indeed?" He studies you thoughtfully for a moment before continuing; "They are most desperate for details regarding you. Who you are, where you have come from.. <em>and</em> what your intentions are."</p></div><div><p>"And I suppose you are here to gather this information for them?"</p></div><div><p>He laughs suddenly, the sound pleasant and melodious; "Goodness, no. I could not care less for their vain concerns. Nor do I need to discover that which I already know."</p></div><div><p>You raise a questioning brow, "And what is it that you already know, Lord Ríanor?"</p></div><div><p>He places his free hand over the one resting on his arm. "I know who you are, of course. I knew it as soon as I laid eyes upon you. And it was only further confirmed for me when I saw you fight the Arhestor, earlier." He pats your fingers almost fondly; "But do not worry. The court are as blind as usual, and your secret is safe with me."</p></div><div><p>Despite your unease that he apparently knew your identity, you keep an expression of calm and mask your surprise; "It is no secret, Lord Ríanor. Despite belief to the contrary, I am not hiding myself or my parentage from anyone." </p></div><div><p>You pause in your stride and bring him to a halt beside you; "But now I admit that I am curious to know exactly what your motivation for this meeting is. If you are aware of who I am, then why have you felt such a great need to seek me out, and why have you not yet given the others the information they are so desperately wanting?"</p></div><div><p>He chuckles, seeming quite fascinated by you; "Because it brings me much amusement to see them so flustered. And besides, I thought you may also gain some satisfaction by revealing it for yourself at the time of your choosing, and I would enjoy nothing more than being there to witness it when you do."</p></div><div><p>You can't help but laugh at the mischievous glint in his eyes; "Then I suppose I should thank you for your discretion."</p></div><div><p>"You are welcome." He winks and continues to walk; "As for my own intentions; I came to warn you, Arhestiel."</p></div><div><p>"Warn me?"</p></div><div><p>He nods, "Yes. You are about to step foot into a bear pit, and I wanted you to be aware that they will try to manipulate and influence you." </p></div><div><p>When you remain silent he eyes you curiously, noting the lack of surprise or concern in your expression; "You knew, didn't you?"</p></div><div><p>"Of course I knew. But it still does not explain to me why you have sought me out just to warn me against your own. Nor why you are so desperate to avoid the king's attention whilst doing so."</p></div><div><p>He motions towards a wide tree root and releases your arm to seat himself on it. "If you will you humour me a moment Arhestiel, then I shall explain."</p></div><div><p>You nod as you settle down next to him and wait for him to continue.</p></div><div><p>He collects his thoughts for a moment and then looks up at you, his topaz eyes searching your soul; "Do you love your home?"</p></div><div><p>You frown at the ridiculousness of the question, "Of course I love it. Enough to give my life to defend it if needs be."</p></div><div><p>He inclines his golden head in respect of your words; "Most noble indeed and I thank you for your service." He hitches the royal blue velvet of his robes as he shifts to get more comfortable; "And the king? What do you think of him? I want you to speak freely and truthfully now."</p></div><div><p>You chew your lip as you carefully ponder his question, wondering how much you could trust him. Finally deciding that the truth would be preferable in any case, you answer; "I love and respect him most of all. I would gladly give everything to protect him, without a moment's hesitation."</p></div><div><p>He smiles softly as he hears the honesty and loyalty in your statement; "So you believe him to be a good king?"</p></div><div><p>You nod without pause; "Yes I do. He may have his faults, as we all do, but there is also much to admire about him. He has given us a home beyond fair and has always provided for us whilst doing his utmost to keep us safe. And it pains me that, while he is greatly respected for what he offers, he is shown little affection or love for himself as a person."</p></div><div><p>He raises a curious brow at your insight and then contemplates your words in silence for a moment. Eventually he nods, as though confirming something to himself, and looks up to find you watching him with confusion. </p></div><div><p>He sighs in apology; "Forgive me. I was just trying to figure out exactly who or what I was dealing with. And now I know."</p></div><div><p>You frown questioningly and he reaches out to take your hand; "The rumours that you have been named as the king's own companion have spread throughout the entire kingdom, and that, coupled with your new position within his army, has suddenly catapulted you into being one of the most powerful and influential people in this realm." He gives your fingers a gentle squeeze, his expression earnest, "I too love my home, Arhestiel. And, like yourself, I would do anything I could to protect it against any sort of attack. And that includes from within."</p></div><div><p>You gaze back at him sagely; "Ahhh...So, just like the rest of the court, you believed me to be a threat too?"</p></div><div><p>He nods, umashamed by the accusation; "Yes, of course. But for entirely different reasons. You see, I have no love for them. I know what the majority of them are. And <em>they</em> are only worried that you will take the king's attention and favour away from them. <em>I</em> however, love him and admire him just as you do. I too believe he is a good ruler, despite his flaws, and I understand him far better than most. That is why I was concerned of whether you would influence him for good or for ill; and if you yourself could easily be influenced."</p></div><div><p>He gives you a warm smile, "And that is why I have sought you out so urgently. I may have known your identity, but I still had no idea of what kind of person you are. However, it appears you are more Brethíl's daughter than I ever dared to hope for. And now I am not quite so worried."</p></div><div><p>"Hmm.." You examine his explanations carefully for a long moment and he waits patiently for you to speak your mind. Having found no lie in his words or bearing, you meet his eyes again; "I think you are greatly overestimating my influence with the king, Lord Ríanor. And it still does not explain to me why you are so keen to avoid his attention in this."</p></div><div><p>His smile widens and he seems most amused by your words; "Oh, but I do not think I am overestimating anything, Arhestiel. And that is why I am most keen to avoid his attention. You see, I believe he is rather protective of his new friend, and as much as I love him, I would not like to be on the receiving end of his foul temper for anything."</p></div><div><p>You roll your eyes, wondering fervently why everyone suddenly seemed to want to tease you of late; "I doubt he would be angry with you for talking with me, Lord Ríanor. It is a social occasion, after all."</p></div><div><p>He laughs then, soft and musical; "Perhaps. But I am not willing to put him to the test <em>just</em> yet."</p></div><div><p>"You are putting him to the test right now, are you not?"</p></div><div><p>He shakes his golden head, his azure eyes gleaming; "No. He will still be occupied by our mutual friend, Taron. And he will certainly not come amongst the revelry to search for you. He can not bear such things and stays clear of it."</p></div><div><p>You frown curiously, finding yourself suddenly distracted from your ire regarding his teasing; "Why is that?"</p></div><div><p>His expression falters and he gazes into his lap. "He used to once. He was always the first to join in the merriment. But he has not danced since..." he pauses awkwardly, unsure of how much to tell you, "..Let us just say that he has not danced for a very long time."</p></div><div><p>He trails off quietly and you didn't need him to finish or explain himself further. You knew.</p></div><div><p>Your heart suddenly aches for the king, and you find it almost agonising that he could not allow himself to enjoy even the simple pleasures of life because of his enduring pain. You chew your lip as you ponder it, feeling angry that he would punish himself in such a manner; "Then I think it is time we changed that for him, don't you?"</p></div><div><p>Ríanor sighs softly; "I appreciate your sentiment, truly I do. But I doubt he will ever heal enough to find joy in such things again."</p></div><div><p>You raise a brow, unwilling to give up without ever trying, "There is only one way to know for sure."</p></div><div><p>"There is... And I can see you are not one to be easily swayed.." Exasperated by, but admiring your stubborness, he pauses to think for a long moment before finally relenting, "Very well, then. Seeing as I am also quite taken with my new friend, the least I could do would be to relieve the king of his unwelcome company so that she may attempt the impossible with him."</p></div><div><p>You smile up at your saviour with hopeful eyes, "You would do that? For me?"</p></div><div><p>He nods as he springs from the tree root in a single fluid movement; "I shall do so immediately. Not only for you, but for him too. No one deserves to be subjected to Taron's poetry."</p></div><div><p>You laugh softly as he helps you down and then leans in to kiss you lightly on the cheek; "It has been a great pleasure to make your charming acquaintance, Arhestiel. I am very much looking forward to getting to know you better. As well as seeing you in court."</p></div><div><p>"And I too, Lord Ríanor." You incline your head as he releases you and then watch as, with a small wave of farewell, he departs back in a wide circle through the shadow of the trees and makes his way towards the king's seat.</p></div><div><p>You wait until he has disappeared fully from sight before meandering your own way back towards the gatherings, pondering over your strange meeting and conversation with the handsome and enigmatic elf lord.</p></div><div><p>Retracing your steps, you finally step out into the light and Thranduil's watchful eyes fall to you the moment you reappear, his stony expression softening with relief upon sight of you.</p></div><div><p>You give him a grateful and affectionate smile and he winks in response, not even pretending to pay any sort of attention to the noble still droning on beside him.</p></div><div><p>You just have time to see Ríanor emerge from further up the avenue to approach him, and then a hand grabs yours and pulls you into the fray. "There you are! We thought you had abandoned us!"</p></div><div><p>You gasp as both Serindiel and Feren spin you around in a circle, taken completely by surprise, but unable to resist them or their merriment; "Never! I was just talking to an acquaintance.."</p></div><div><p>Feren grins and spins you faster; "Well, less talking, more dancing!"</p></div><div><p>You laugh in unrestrained joy and give in, dancing with both of them for a while until at last, Ríanor manages to work his magic and frees the king of his unwanted companion. You glance up from your revelry to find him all alone and watching you with a fond yet somewhat sad smile, and immediately extract yourself from your friend's happy circle with the firm intention of returning to him. </p></div><div><p>Still giggling, you make your excuses and bound swiftly up the thoroughfare, skipping gracefully between the dancers and the drinkers to come back to his side. </p></div><div><p>He gazes at you with surprise when you throw yourself down next to him breathless and dizzy; "You will not dance any more, dearest?"</p></div><div><p>You shake your head and smile up at him; "I believe I promised my beloved king my company in the noble endeavour of drinking a whole barrel?"</p></div><div><p>He laughs and reaches for the wine; "So you did.." He pours you a glass, nodding towards Serindiel who was still spinning wildly with Feren; "Your friend is quite the charming character."</p></div><div><p>You nod in agreement and thank him for the drink as he hands it to you; "Indeed she is. And I am grateful to you for the kindness you showed her, as she means the world to me."</p></div><div><p>He smiles warmly as he watches her; "There is nothing to thank for. I enjoyed her company and I genuinely think she is quite the talent. I look forward to seeing what she will create for me."</p></div><div><p>"If it is possible to make you look any more magnificent than you already do, then rest assured that Serindiel is the only one who could accomplish such a feat. And as she's now quite in love with you, I can only imagine the lengths she will be inspired to."</p></div><div><p>He laughs quietly at your teasing and raises a brow, "I haven't lost my charm, then?"</p></div><div><p>"Apparently not."</p></div><div><p>"Good to know." His eyes turn back to you, studying every detail of your flushed face in the soft glow of the lanterns; "Now, if only I could get it to work on you."</p></div><div><p>"How do you know it doesn't already?"</p></div><div><p>He leans in to whisper in your ear; "Because you hold back from me. I found out more about your friend in little more than an hour than I have about you in days." He rests his brow lightly against the side of your head, his warm voice softly persuasive and setting your pulse racing quite suddenly, "Open your heart to me... I would have your friendship, as well as your service."</p></div><div><p>Your brow furrows in confusion; "I thought it obvious that you already have my friendship, my king."</p></div><div><p>"My name is Thranduil."</p></div><div><p>"Yes, my lord. I <em>am</em> aware, as I told you before."</p></div><div><p>He sighs into your silky hair, frustrated beyond belief by your iron sense of duty and yet unable to keep himself from admiring it; "Then use it. You are not on guard tonight."</p></div><div><p>"Maybe not. But you are still my king and it would be inappropriate for me to address you otherwise."</p></div><div><p>He presses a tender kiss to your temple before withdrawing to drink his wine; "Not if we were truly friends."</p></div><div><p>You chew your lip, falling into a taciturn silence that drags on until he glances at you with concern, surprised by the sudden change in atmosphere and the turmoil now visible in your expression; "Have I upset you?"</p></div><div><p>"Not as such, my lord."</p></div><div><p>He places his cup down again and turns himself to face you with a confused frown, "What then?"</p></div><div><p>"I am just a little frustrated."</p></div><div><p>"Regarding what, dear one?"</p></div><div><p>You look up at him, seeing his worry reflected in his pale eyes; "I am frustrated because you ask more of me than you realise. I remember all of our conversations thus far, and everything you have demanded of me, and I feel a great contradiction within myself because of it. As far as I am concerned, I have always been honest and never once held back from you. You already have my friendship, and my heart is open to you as much as it is allowed to be. I do not know what else it is you wish from me, nor what more I can give you." </p></div><div><p>You fidget awkwardly, surprising even yourself with your quiet, emotional outburst, "I know I am not as forthcoming with my thoughts or feelings as Serindiel, but that is part of who I am as well as a soldier's habit. I'm aware of my flaws and I <em>am</em> trying to be better for you. I <em>want</em> to be better for you. I just feel as though I am not good enough and that I am failing you in some way when it is the last thing on earth I would ever want to do. So yes, I am both frustrated and confused as to where I am still going wrong."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil groans inwardly, having no idea that his constant need for intimacy with you over these past few days had left you feeling in such a way. He supposed, on hindsight, that it was only to be expected. You hardly knew him after all, and in any normal circumstance he was sure that neither of you would have achieved anywhere near the level of understanding that you already shared with one another; knew without a doubt that it was entirely the result of being thrown together through an unexpected battle, and its sorrowful aftermath, as well as the mutual love of your father, that had allowed you both to do so in the first place. He sighs, truly regretting making you feel so pressured, and yet, still not able to deny for a moment the way he felt about you. </p></div><div><p>He takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips; "Forgive me, Caltariel. You are not failing me at all. It is I who have failed you. And I never want you to feel as though you are not good enough or that you have done something wrong, when nothing could be further from the truth."</p></div><div><p>He pauses for a moment, his vulnerable quality shining through in his eyes, "It is only that, I have very few friends in my life, and certainly none who bring me such comfort like you do. Because of that, amongst other things, I find I have a great desire to be close to you." </p></div><div><p>You sigh, feeling torn and at war with yourself; "I desire that too. And I am glad I can bring you comfort and will always look to do so. However, my devotion to you as my king is paramount in my life. It comes before anything else. So, requesting that I treat you any less than deferentially goes against everything I know and believe in, and will undoubtedly cause me much turmoil in reconciling myself into granting you your wish." </p></div><div><p>You run your thumb lightly over the back of his hand and try to gather your courage, "In that knowledge then, I am left wondering whether or not you are willing to give as much of yourself in return?"</p></div><div><p>He frowns, wondering what it was you could ever possibly want from him and preparing himself to give it a thousand times over just to have your love; "Of course."</p></div><div><p>You hesistate for a moment before straightening up and unbuckling your sword belt. He watches in confusion as you slide the weapon under the bench and then offer him your hand again, "Will you dance with me, <em>Thranduil?</em>"</p></div><div><p>His expression falters and you can see him tense immediately. He stares at your hand as though burned and then quickly turns away. "I would give you anything... anything but that.." </p></div><div><p>He picks up his cup and clutches it tightly to his chest as though it would somehow shield him from the vulnerability he suddenly felt, and you let your hand fall away in silence, almost wishing you had not asked him, only if to spare him the sorrow that was now visible throughout his entire being.</p></div><div><p>He chews on the inside of his cheek, sensing your distress and hating himself for hurting you a second time; denying you what would normally be such a simple a thing to ask for, without giving you any sort of explanation at all for his rejection. He suddenly begins to worry that you would take it as a measure of his affection for you and quickly seeks to allay such fears. "Please do not think my refusal is in any way an indication of my feelings towards you, as once again, nothing could be further from the truth."</p></div><div><p>You pick up your glass and drain it, your eyes fixed firmly upon the revelry; "It did not for one moment occur to me to think that was the case, my lord."</p></div><div><p>He observes you from the corner of his eye, noting your stiff posture and the troubled expression you now wore. "Then tell me why I can now feel your pain?"</p></div><div><p>You remain silent and he sighs in frustration before suddenly rising to his feet. He motions for one of the kingsguard on duty and waits for the shield to approach before speaking to him in a voice too low for you to hear. The guard nods once and Thranduil turns back to find you watching him with a bewildered expression. He hesitates for a moment and then offers you his hand; "Let us take a walk."</p></div><div><p>You stare at him in confusion as you slip your fingers into his and rise, "What did you say to him?"</p></div><div><p>Thranduil shrugs, leading you around his forest seat and into the trees; "That I was going to stretch my legs and that I did not require them to follow."</p></div><div><p>"Oh.."</p></div><div><p>You silently step into line beside him as he takes you deeper into the darkness, and he too says nothing, but continues to walk until the sounds of music and merriment fade to nothing more than a pleasant background noise. Once sure you wouldn't be overheard, he pauses to gaze around at the small moonlit glade you now found yourselves in and then releases your hand to seat himself upon the fallen trunk of a once mighty oak.</p></div><div><p>You watch him as he shifts his resplendent red and gold robes to get comfortable, his silver hair shining in the white light from above as he settles himself and then turns back to you with calm attentiveness; "Now, tell me why you are hurting."</p></div><div><p>You gaze back at him anxiously and Thranduil thought he had never seen you look so helpless. It was all he could do to remain seated and not take you into his arms and comfort you from whatever it was that was causing you so much anguish. "Come, Caltariel. I would have us resolve whatever this is, ere it festers between us."</p></div><div><p>You swallow painfully, wondering how much you would have to hurt him to help him, and whether or not you had the nerve to do so and break your own heart in the process. You chew your lip in trepidation before deciding that your father would be ashamed of you for being such a coward and shirking your duty when your king needed you to make him see. "You truly want me to open my heart and mind to you? Without holding back?"</p></div><div><p>He nods, a curious frown lining his brow; "Of course. I wish for nothing more."</p></div><div><p>"Very well." You pace nervously for a moment before facing him again, looking as though you wished you could be anywhere else; "I am hurting because I have hurt you. You see, I knew exactly what it was that I was asking of you by wanting you to dance with me."</p></div><div><p>He staggers as though you had just slapped him, a flash of betrayal crossing his fair face as soon as he realises you hadn't been as ignorant of his heart than he had first thought. Head bowed, you stare at your feet, unable to bear his hurt or the look of pain in his eyes, "I knew you would likely refuse me and all the reasons why. But I asked you anyway .... because I love you."</p></div><div><p>You shift awkwardly on the spot, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. "A small part of me foolishly hoped that you might have enough affection for me to allow yourself to accept. I naively thought that, if you did so, then you might discover some genuine enjoyment in the festivities again."</p></div><div><p>He begins to interrupt you, but you hold up a hand to silence him, not wanting him to stop you now or you would never finish; "You asked me yesterday what it was I desired for myself. My answer was to serve you with loyalty and devotion. And it is the truth. But I have another desire also ... and that is to see you smile and laugh again as I know you used to. I would see you happy over anything else in the world. And I hurt because I can sense, deep down, you are not."</p></div><div><p>Your eyes sting with tears and you draw a trembling breath, "It breaks my heart to see you deny yourself of even the smallest joys and punish yourself constantly over things for which you are blameless. You are so undeserving of that.. and so are we."</p></div><div><p>He sits in agonised silence and you turn away from him to gaze into the shadows, wanting to hide your own turmoil; "It is not just I who loves you. There are many who do. And we have a far greater need of you than the memories you cling to so painfully..." </p></div><div><p>Your voice breaks, and your nerve almost breaks with it as you feel eyes of ice suddenly burn into your back, "...I am not asking you to try and forget the past, my king. It would be impossible to do so and nor should you. What I <em>am</em> asking of you, is not to continue punishing both yourself and us by spending so much time looking behind you that you neglect all that you have right here."</p></div><div><p>You trail off, expecting him to scream at you or dismiss you from him, but he doesn't. The silence lingers until it becomes almost palpable and then he speaks, his voice dangerously soft. "You feel I have neglected my people, then? As well as you?"</p></div><div><p>You shake your head quickly; "I do not mean it in the way you are implying."</p></div><div><p>"Then why stop now!? Say what it is you actually mean and be done with it!"</p></div><div><p>You flinch at his sudden outburst and the hurt present in his voice and quickly seek to make amends, "I mean to say that your people respect you. We know you provide for us and keep us safe, and we are thankful. We will give our lives for you if need be. And we have done. However, most do not understand you or know you very well, if at all. Many amongst us can not remember the happier times, or are too young to ever know they existed in the first place. The majority will now never be privileged enough to spend any time in your company, and I find that such a great shame, as they will never know how truly wonderful you are, nor you they."</p></div><div><p>You gesture vaguely towards the distant lanterns; "Take Serindiel as a perfect example. She was absolutely petrified of you when I presented her, but a few moments spent in your presence has left her wanting to sing of your qualities from the highest treetops. She may have respected you before but now she loves you, and she will not forget your kindness nor this night for the rest of her life. If she is ever blessed enough to have children, she will tell them fondly all about it.. and you." </p></div><div><p>You sigh wistfully, "Imagine how much it would mean to the rest of them and how they would remember this day if their king were to walk amongst them again and join them in their revelry. Imagine how they would love you if only you could find the great strength to stop shutting yourself away from them and show them your love in return." You pause and finally find the courage to turn back and meet his eyes, "And you do love them. I know you do."</p></div><div><p>He gazes back at you with quiet desperation, his expression of torture only deepening when he sees the tears glistening on your face; "Of course I love them! I always have. And all I have ever wanted was to see them safe and happy, and yet I have failed them time and again through my own bitter pride and arrogance."</p></div><div><p>You groan in despair of the self-loathing that had once again crept into his words and you feel your fear dissipate to be replaced by a sudden burning anger; "No you have not! And this is exactly what I am talking about! It makes me sick to my soul to witness you hating yourself in this way!"</p></div><div><p>He stares at you with wide eyes, taken aback not only by the reprimand, but also the fire which he had never seen from you before and which had come from nowhere.</p></div><div><p>You rub at your temples in frustration; "You asked for honesty, you asked me to tell you exactly what I thought, and you asked for me to open my heart to you and not hold back, even though you have never once truly done so in return." </p></div><div><p>You take a deep breath to bring your sudden flare of annoyance under control and continue, your tone much softer, "Well, at least I have fulfilled my promise. There is now nothing more for me to say except this; I have already danced with two of the people that mean more to me than anything else on this earth. I would love for nothing more than to be able to make it all three. However, I understand completely why you refuse me and I have nothing but compassion for both you and your reasons. I do not judge you or criticise you in any way for them, and I meant it when I swore to you that I would always walk beside you while you dealt with your burdens as you saw fit. But you also asked me to counsel you if I ever thought there was cause, even if I felt contradicted or thought it would make you angry, so I have done that too. Now that I have met all requirements in your long list of demands, even against the better judgement of my heart, I will say no more on this subject ever again, as my only wish is to stay by your side, to whatever end it may lead. As it always will be, if you will allow it."</p></div><div><p>You turn your back on him again, feeling truly vulnerable and he can do no other than sit in stunned silence, soaking in every word you had just said to him like a small, misbehaving child who had just been shamed by a much wiser parent.</p></div><div><p>It was as though you had ripped his broken heart from his chest, examined and explained it to perfection and then thrust it back behind his ribs all in a matter of mere minutes. And yet, rather than the bruises he knew he should feel from such an invasive attack, he was sure it had never beaten this strongly and so full of life in an age.</p></div><div><p>He gazes at you thoughtfully with the notion that you were right; that he did indeed demand more of others than he had ever realised, and yet, never offered anything real of his own heart in exchange. And he longed to change that for you. But he didn't know how.</p></div><div><p>He also couldn't imagine the strength of courage it had taken you to say the words to him that you had. You did not have the comfort or familiarity of a long friendship with him as your father had, and yet he was sure that Brethíl would have applauded had he been here to witness his sweet daughter reprimand her king so soundly.</p></div><div><p>And, just as with your father, what he admired the most was that none of the things you had said were for your own benefit, but entirely for his own and those of the people. Your actions were wholly unselfish and it only served to make him feel even more so, and he could not bear your disappointment.</p></div></div></div><div>
  <p>The silence drags on until it becomes almost intolerable and then you hear the rustle of velvet as he rises to his feet with a resigned sigh. Your heart pounds dully in your chest as you await your punishment for overstepping your boundaries with him, and then stops altogether when you feel the heat of his body against your back. "Are you angry with me?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"No."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You take a deep breath and give word to your biggest concern, "Are you going to send me away from your side?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your voice breaks and his heart does the same. "Never."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His warm breath tussles the hair at the back of your head and you close your eyes, waiting for him to say more, but he doesn't. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Unable to stand it, you turn to face him and press yourself into his arms, seeking the safety of his embrace. "Forgive me." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He tentatively draws you close, surprised by your sudden desperate need for closeness with him when before it was always himself who had been the one to instigate such things. "There is nothing to forgive. You are right. About everything."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You lift your head from the velvet of his shoulder to look up at him in remorse; "Regardless of right or wrong, I have still hurt you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He gives you a wan smile, "Yes. But no more than I deserve."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Stop it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You reach up, ignoring all further propriety to frame his face in gentle hands, "<em>Please .. </em>just stop..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He searches your eyes, finding them devoid of all judgement as always and filled only with devotion and compassion. Finally he gives in and leans in to your touch for comfort, "There is something I want to tell you; something I would have your thoughts on. But I do not know how to say it, and I am afraid to."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Still surprised that he was being so forgiving, you trace your thumbs lightly over the the lines of his jaw to soothe him; "Why would you be afraid?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He gazes deep into your eyes, no trace of a lie visible anywhere in his flawless face; "Because I could not now bear for you to leave me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your heart breaks painfully in your chest with his words and you immediately look to reassure him; "Then your fears are groundless. As I could never do so of my own free will."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Are you sure you can promise me that, Caltariel?"</p>
</div><div>
<p></p><div><p>You nod without a single moment's hesitation, trying desperately to work out what was going on in his ancient mind; "I swear it."</p></div><div><p>He chews on the inside of his cheek as he studies you, seeming nervous and vulnerable, but you could see other emotions there too, some you didn't recognise and others that shone clearly in his pale eyes; guilt, fear, affection, confusion, he appeared to be entirely at war with himself and you wished more than anything that you could help him.</p></div><div><p>More tormented by the second he finally growls in frustration, his fingers finding your chin in a grip of iron. His eyes fall to your mouth and your heart stops, missing one beat and then two, your breath catching in your throat. You felt sure he intended to kiss you, and you fleetingly wonder how he had come to this. He couldn't kiss you. He shouldn't want to. And you should not want him to either, should not want to feel his lips on yours, or his breath against your skin.</p></div><div><p>His body melds to yours and the charged energy of his spirit lends itself to the heat of him, searing at your blood and mingling with the already potent effects of the wine. You could no longer think clearly, could not look away, the eyes of winter's morning now holding you firmly in place as he leans in to set all your senses on fire.</p></div><div><p>Your hands slip from his face to twist into the velvet folds of his robes, pulling him closer of their own accord and the very air around you stills in anticipation.</p></div><div><p>It was wrong. Everything was wrong. Every tiny part of your being cried out in warning, setting your whole body aflame before turning it instantly to ice. The shadows about you seem to shift and come alive as he hesistates only a fraction away from your mouth, and your skin prickles; a deep feeling of unease and dread washing over you. "<em>No!!</em>"</p></div><div><p>Your grip tightens on his coat and you throw him away from you with all the strength you could muster, sending him sprawling backwards across the glade. The same moment, a deadly whistle cuts through the air and all the breath leaves your lungs as a brutal force impacts and drives into your body.</p></div><div><p>You gasp as a white hot pain instantly burns its way through your chest, but you clench your jaw and move through it as you withdraw a dagger from beneath your skirts and loose it at a shadow beyond the trees with unrivalled speed and precision.</p></div><div><p>The knife makes contact with a wet thud and the dark shape falls just as the blare of an elven horn rings a sharp warning throughout the forest.</p></div><div><p>Another sounds in answer, its clear note almost drowning out the scream of rage and fear that came from the king as he rushes back towards you with sword unsheathed and a look of pure horror on his face.</p></div><div><p>Disoriented, you frown at him in confusion and then your eyes fall to your breast and the black shaft that now protruded from the layers of silver; silver that was quickly staining with a deep and glistening red.</p></div></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hello lovely people. I hope you're all safe and well. I just wanted to say thank you for all the love and support whilst I've been out of sorts, it has meant a lot to me. Also thank you for the kind words on this fiction. I am truly grateful for all your comments and I will reply to every one of them shortly. I really apologise for the delay with this update and for leaving you on a cliffhanger. But on a positive note I have this and another chapter almost ready to go and the new Oath chapter is almost complete too for any who are awaiting that. Stay safe everyone and thanks again!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <em><b>Thranduil, no!!</b>"</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>A sea of shadows begin to swarm from the darkness beyond the trees and, ignoring the danger and your desperate plea, the king charges shoulder first into the foremost of them as it springs forth into the clearing and bears down upon you with a raised mace.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>With a strangled howl, the grotesque silhouette tumbles backwards into the gloom and Thranduil turns to decapitate another archer with swift finality before positioning himself firmly in front of you to face the oncoming tide of shrieking orcs now spilling out from the blackness of the surrounding forest.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Choking past your pain, you can only gaze around you in absolute dismay, your clouded mind still struggling to make sense of everything that was happening. Terrified eyes finally come to focus back on the king as he battles to stem the tide of the foes now quickly surrounding him, and your brow furrows in confusion; What was he doing? There were far too many of them for him to fight alone. He knew that. He could never hope to protect you.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He was going to die.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>"No..."</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The very thought fills you with indescribable horror and you reach up with trembling fingers to grip hard at the ebony shaft embedded in your breast; snapping it off just above the skin with a sharp cry of pain.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your vision fades in and out and you sway on the spot, desperately fighting to stay conscious as you toss the splintered wood aside in disgust and reach under your skirts for your weapons.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Panicked shouts and the distant sound of clashing steel ring out from every direction, whilst before you, Thranduil slices through putrid flesh with all the wrath of a raging tempest, his lithe figure becoming nothing more than a silver blur as he leaps across the glade, laying waste to all who dare come before him in his desperate want to shield you from further harm.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Ducking swiftly beneath the blow of a savage looking scimitar, he slays its owner without even looking, his thin blade dripping with the black blood of his enemy as he turns to meet the orc he knew was now bearing down towards his back, only to find the wretched creature already dead and falling. "Caltariel! What are you - !?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He breaks off as you instantly launch yourself past him and into the fray, felling two as they come charging towards him and then forcing him to dance out of the way of your knives as you send a third into the abyss after them.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>
      <b>"Run!!"</b>
    </em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Rancid gore sprays across your face in a fine mist as you charge across the path of the hulking shadows now taking advantage of his momentary distraction and seeking to attack him from behind. He moves quickly to protect your flank, ignoring your desperate plea for a second time. "No! I will not leave you!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You growl in frustration of his reckless foolishness as he presses up against you, standing with you back to back in the middle of the glade like a silver island amidst a roiling sea of blackness; "If we ever survive this, you and I will be having words." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>His sword completes a graceful arc, rending flesh from bone with deadly precision; "And I will be glad to hear them, so let us concentrate on that survival."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You grunt in acknowledgement, your blades held ready as you prepare yourself to meet the fresh onslaught now coming your way.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Twigs snap as more of the abhorrent creatures come bursting forth from the undergrowth, and the savage pain in your chest intensifies as you twist this way and that to meet them; bright, elven steel gleaming in the pale light of the moon as it slices with ease through the lesser armour of your foes.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You grit your teeth against the torture that was constantly threatening to overwhelm you, knowing if you gave in to it or faltered for even a second then you would be condemning the king into the void along with you; and it was that terror alone that fuelled your iron will and determination to protect him at all costs, and gave you the strength you needed to endure that which should already have taken you into darkness.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A sharp, slicing sensation in your upper arm makes you hiss and you feel hot liquid begin to pour down your bare skin, inciting your rage at your own carelessness and delayed reactions, your movement far more heavy than what you were usually accustomed to, slowed and restricted as you were by your agony. You throw yourself back into the fight with renewed vigour, disemboweling the filthy creature who had dared to mark you with a scream of unbridled fury before sinking a knife into the eye of another.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Wave after wave of the shrieking creatures fall to your wrath, their rotting corpses piling up around your feet in a mountain of stinking flesh, and you become nothing more than a streak of silver as you give yourself over fully to the lust for battle and your need to defend the king; desperate to take as many of them with you into the abyss as you could just to keep him safe.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>There seemed no end to them. As you felled one, two more took its place, and as the night grew deeper, you began to tire; your wounds draining you of your usual endurance and leaving you weaker and more susceptible to mistakes than ever before. You yelp when another slash to your stomach almost makes you faint and you teeter on the brink, your vision darkening as you shove your knife through the throat of the leering culprit with a blow strong enough to sever its still-grinning head from its miserable neck.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Distracted by the sound of your pain, Thranduil receives a rare knock of his own, the blood trickling down his head and staining his silver hair with ruby. He growls in fury, felling several orcs in quick succession with wrathful vengeance before bounding into the shadows for another, plunging his sword straight through a gap in its makeshift armour with rage when he finds it. It falls back with a strangled gurgle, and he circles to find his next target, spotting you locked in combat with an orc that was almost twice your size and seemingly on the verge of losing consciousness. Sensing your momenatry weakness, it moves in for the kill, only to lose its head on the blade of the king instead as he drives into it from behind. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>The hulking mass topples at your feet and then; silence. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>As quickly as they had come, they were gone; all that now remained of them lying in rotting, mangled heaps of deformed flesh that littered the forest floor and oozed the stench of black blood into its rich earth.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil's chest heaves with exertion as he gazes around into the darkness, poised for further attack, but none comes. His wide eyes fall instead to the carnage that surrounded him and he draws a ragged breath at last, unable to believe you had managed to defeat so many or that you had both survived the unexpected attack.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>With that thought, a small gasp turns the inferno still raging inside him into ice, stopping his heart in mid-beat, and he turns quickly to face you again just as your knives slip from your hands. "Caltariel..." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>You sway on the spot for the briefest of moments, your glazed eyes fixed upon him, and then, upon seeing him safe and well, you fall to your knees, no longer able to support your own weight. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <em>"Caltariel, no!"</em>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He rushes forward, casting aside his sword and throwing himself to the floor to catch you before you fully hit the ground, almost beside himself with anxiety. His eyes pass quickly over you, assessing your injuries, noting your shallow breathing and the fresh blood that now covered your entire body, leaving you deathly pale beneath ruby rivers and a sickly sheen of sweat.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"My king..." Your voice hardly more than a whisper, you reach up to touch his gore-streaked face, trying to commit every flawless detail of it to deepest memory so you could take it with you into the darkness that you knew now awaited you; "It was an honour.."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A deep sadness fills your eyes and then they close at last; the pull of the void becoming far too strong for you to resist any longer. A single tear spills out from beneath your lashes and he grasps your chin desperately as you begin to fade; "No, no no.. ...Stay with me.. You can't leave.. you promised!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Forgive... me.." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your bloody fingers slide from his cheek and he shakes you in utter anguish, unwilling to accept the inevitable; "No! I <em>command</em> you to stay with me! <em>Caltariel!!</em>" </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your body turns to dead weight in his arms and he clutches you against him tightly as a familiar grief and heartbreak begins to rip through his chest in lightning bolts of pure agony. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>"My lord!?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Twigs snap as Feren and Amros come charging through the trees towards him with raised swords, stopping short when they see your bloodied form cradled, lifeless and unmoving, in his lap.  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Already lost to his pain, Thranduil ignores them both, the world blurring through his blinding hot tears as he lifts back his silver head and screams into the night.</p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>* * </p>
</div><div>
  <p> </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Somewhere amidst the nothingness you become aware of something bitter being pressed against your tongue, the pungent taste of it pulling at your mind and preventing you from fully entering the peaceful tranquillity that stretched out before you.</p>
</div><div>
<p></p><div><p>In the surrounding darkness, loud, angry voices argued, the din fading in and out and throbbing at your temples, causing you to frown irritably in resentment of being disturbed from your promised rest.</p></div><div><p>"I am surprised she has lived <em>this</em> long! She should have been dead within minutes!"</p></div><div><p>"She survived because she is <em>strong</em>! She <em>can</em> be saved!"</p></div><div><p>"My king, I reiterate once again that there is nothing we can do! The arrow is extremely close to her heart and the poison will already be spreading there. Even in the event we cure her of that, removing the shaft would most likely cause her to bleed to death before we could ever heal the wound. She has already lost too much blood. You <em>need</em> to prepare yourself!"</p></div><div><p>"No! I refuse to believe that, Daranír! I can not just stand idly by and watch her die! I <em>will</em> not!"</p></div><div><p>A clattering of glass bottles, then fingers forcefully slide inside your mouth again, pressing some sort of crushed leaf into the hollows of your cheeks. The bitterness intensifies immediately, bringing with it a heightened sensation of searing flames burning throughout your veins.</p></div><div><p>"There is no other option, my lord! I do not have the power to aid her, and she is already at peace. Do not make the poor child suffer further by clinging to a false hope!"</p></div><div><p>"Are you not listening? I want her <em>back</em>! I do not care what it takes! And if you are refusing to do that for me then I shall do it myself! Now, get out of my sight!"</p></div><div><p>"But - "</p></div><div><p>
      <em>
        <b>"GET OUT!"</b>
      </em>
    </p></div><div><p>The familiar voice, the voice of one you loved more than life itself, screams out in pure, tempestuous rage, and swiftly retreating footsteps echo from stone in response. A door slams somewhere in the distance and the excruciating boiling in your blood increases until it becomes almost unbearable, the torment of it dragging you forcibly from the solace of the waiting void and back into the harshness of full, conscious reality.</p></div><div><p>You writhe in agony as a rolling wave of fire ripples down your spine, and you begin to choke past the foul taste now cloying your tongue in an effort to breathe.</p></div><div><p>"<em>Caltariel!?</em>...</p><p>           ... Feren, quickly! Pass me the skin!" </p></div><div><p>A gentle hand slides under the back of your neck, lifting your head slightly as a flask is suddenly pressed against your lips; "Here.. drink this, dear one.. It will help.."</p></div><div><p>Dazed, you do as the voice commands, swallowing the cool, herbal liquid as it trickles slowly into your mouth and washes away the dry bitterness of the crushed leaf that was constricting at your throat. An icy tingle instantly begins to quench the fever burning at your flesh and you groan in relief as the severe pain diminishes and begins to recede almost immediately, withdrawing gradually to a central point somewhere within your breast.</p></div><div><p>When the flask was empty, the hand gently lowers your head back to the cushion on which it had been resting and then tenderly begins to brush away the hair plastered to your grimy cheeks. You finally manage to draw in a starving breath and then open your eyes to blink up into the soft light; bringing the distressed face of the woodland king into sudden focus. "Thranduil.."</p></div><div><p>His anguished eyes fill with unshed tears when you whisper his name and he sags against you, almost beside himself in the relief that you had not yet passed beyond all hope. "I am here.."</p></div><div><p>"My body hurts..."</p></div><div><p>He nods in sympathy while his fingers continue with their soothing motion in your hair to comfort you; "I know, dear one. I have given you herbs to ease the pain. Just lay still, they will begin to take effect soon."</p></div><div><p>"The poultice is ready and the water is boiling, my lord."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil glances up at a point over your head; "Good. Bring it over, Feren. And those cloths."</p></div><div><p>"Feren..." You tilt your chin towards the sound of approaching footsteps, and the high captain himself comes into sight, his chestnut hair matted to the side of his head with dried blood.</p></div><div><p>Despite this painful looking wound, his kind face softens into an affectionate smile when he sees you wide awake and gazing back at him. He hands over a bubbling cauldron and various other items to his king before dropping to his knees at your side; "It is good to see you with the living again, my friend. You had me worried there for a moment..."</p></div><div><p>A pleasant fragrance suddenly fills the air around you, borne of the steam issuing from the pot and reminding you somewhat of the forest in autumn twilights after rain. You inhale it eagerly as you assess him through half lidded eyes for further injury; "Feren.. The people.. "</p></div><div><p>Avoiding looking anywhere but at your face for the sake of his own sanity, he grasps blindly for your fingers and gives them a gentle squeeze of reassurance; "Do not fret. We lost no one. Just a few injuries, and none as impressive as your war wounds, I'm sure."</p></div><div><p>Quickly tearing the soft cloth into large pieces, Thranduil drops them into the hot water, his shoulders set in a hard, tense line of barely concealed anxiety; "Speaking of which, you need to go and get that head wound looked at, Feren. And then, if you are well enough, perhaps you could assist Serindiel?"</p></div><div><p>The high captain nods, recognising the pointed hint without much difficulty. He brings your hand to his lips and presses a heartfelt kiss to the backs of your fingers; "Stay strong sister, and let the king do as he must. I will go and get myself cleaned up and then I will bring you a change of clothes."</p></div><div><p>You give him a weak smile; "Thank you, Feren."</p></div><div><p>He nods, and for a fleeting moment a well of sadness takes hold in his eyes as he looks at you; wondering, you knew, if he would ever see you alive again; and then, with a swift bow to his king and a swish of his cloak, he was gone.</p></div><div><p>Alone at last, Thranduil prods the last of the fabric into the steaming pot and then pulls off his own cloak and coat, undressing himself swiftly down to his shirt and pants. Tossing the restrictive garments to one side, he rolls up his sleeves past the elbow and then leans over you again, his fair face only inches from your own as he studies you with deepest concern; "How do you feel now?"</p></div><div><p>You gaze up into his ageless eyes, seeing his worry reflected clearly within their icy depths; "The burning has mostly numbed... but my chest is torture and it is difficult to breathe."</p></div><div><p>He studies you thoughtfully for a moment and then nods once in acknowledgement before pulling back to survey your torso and the rent holes in the blood soaked fabric with nervous trepidation. Steeling himself for whatever he would find beneath, he begins to unclasp the tiny silver fastenings holding the ruined velvet together; working with a stoic precision that was betrayed entirely by the tense set of his shoulders and the tremble of his hands.</p></div><div><p>You concentrate on taking calm, shallow breaths as he finally works his way down to your waist and unfastens the last clasp of your torn bodice before glancing up at you again, suddenly hesitant and unsure. "By your leave?"</p></div><div><p>You give him a single nod of consent, "In this moment I could not care less if you strip me naked and parade me around the halls, my king.."</p></div><div><p>"Do not tempt me so, dearest.."</p></div><div><p>You ignore his humourless teasing and then flinch as he carefully begins to peel back the layers of sodden fabric that were sticking agonisingly to your skin, loosening them a little at a time from around your wounds until they fell away completely; fully exposing the bare expanse of your chest to him.</p></div><div><p>His breath hitches deep within his throat and his glacial eyes darken with the rage and grief of the sight that greeted him; his expression enough to banish any embarrassment you had suddenly felt at being made so vulnerable before your king. The hint of blush quickly recedes from your cheeks to be replaced by a cold dread that formed and replaced the heat in the pit of your stomach, and you fix your gaze upon him anxiously; the despair in his bearing enough to prevent you from wanting to see the extent of the damage for yourself. "Thranduil?"</p></div><div><p>He tears his horrified eyes away from your body, his countenance softening slightly when he sees his panic reflected in your face; "Yes, dear one?"</p></div><div><p>"When I die, will you please bury me with my mother?"</p></div><div><p>He tenses almost imperceptibly, a stab of immense hurt etching his exquisite features at the path your thoughts were taking, and he shakes his head in stern denial as he turns away, not willing for even a moment to entertain the notion of such an outcome. "You are not going to die.." </p></div><div><p>Desperate, you reach out for him, gentle fingers coming to rest on the muscled rise of his forearm; "I do not need to see the injuries to know how serious they are. I can feel them draining the last of my strength even now and I see the great fear in your eyes, sweet king."</p></div><div><p>Refusing to acknowledge your words, he busies himself with various bottles and pots, leaving you to stare sadly at his broad back. "Thranduil, <em>please</em>.. I need to know you will do this for me.."</p></div><div><p>"Enough!"</p></div><div><p>Finally snapping, he turns back to you, his hands framing your face as he gazes down at you in pure desperation; "I would do anything for you. <em>Anything</em>... But you are not going to die, Caltariel. You are going to <em>live</em>. Do you understand me? I <em>need</em> you to live."</p></div><div><p>The depth of emotion in his words leaves you with no heart to argue and you relent with a single nod, surrendering, as always, to his indomitable will. "As you say, my king. Do as you will then, and I shall do my best to endure it."</p></div><div><p>Satisfied, he takes a deep breath to compose himself and then runs his thumb over the swell of your cheek, the ice of his eyes softening; "I will not let you leave me. You owe me a dance."</p></div><div><p>Despite everything, you can't but help the tender smile that touches your lips; "I believe that it is <em>you</em> who owes <em>me</em>, my lord."</p></div><div><p>He murmurs in agreement, pressing a gentle kiss to  your brow; "We can argue the details later.."</p><p>Releasing you, he picks up a soft leather strap from amongst the pots beside him and offers it out to you; "But for now, I need you to bite down on this and let me concentrate."</p></div><div><p>He presses the strip of hide to your lips and you do as requested, trapping the supple leather between your teeth while he returns his attention to your body without further hesitation. You settle back into the cushion, your hands already curling into fists in preparation for the pain you knew you were about to endure for him; and as he begins to wash out your wounds, you couldn't help but silently wonder if this would finally be the one demand that you would not be able to meet.</p></div></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, I hurt some feelings with the last chapter apparently. I hope this one makes up for it just a little :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>The long hours all blend together; each moment, each heartbeat stretching on for what felt like an age.  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Beside the bed, Thranduil sits tensed and unmoving as stone, the deafening silence now pressing in on him only broken by the laboured sound of your shallow breathing.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His tired eyes rest hopelessly, desperately on your face as the images of the previous evening continue to play out in his mind, torturing him, haunting him, branding his aching heart and soul for all eternity and increasing his self-loathing to a point where it almost took on a life of its own.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He had worked tirelessly all through the night to save you, giving you yet more herbs to contain your pain while he had washed the festering filth from your flesh and packed your wounds with a poultice to help draw out the poison that had already turned your veins black beneath a layer of deathly pale skin. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>You had bravely suffered his ministrations throughout, enduring everything for him with hardly any sound or movement, allowing him to feel almost confident in the progress he was making in healing you; even more so when the discoloration beneath your skin had receded and your body began to calm of its feverish trembling beneath his hands.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Satisfied he had neutralised the threat of the toxin and it would no longer be fatal, he had turned his attention to the arrow itself, and then everything had changed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Nothing would ever rid him of the sound of your torment when he had first tried to ease the ebony shaft from your body; nor would anything banish the memory of the thick, blackened blood that had gushed forth like hot tar from around the splintered wood, making your skin slick and sticky beneath his fingers as you had begun to writhe and thrash against him in pure agony.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He had tried desperately to calm you, but no amount of pain relief he had given you had spared you from that immeasurable torture; not even the gift of energy given freely from his own body had granted you any respite from your hurt, and it had destroyed him utterly to watch you suffer so greatly at his own hands.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Knowing that you would be certain to die if he were to desist, his only option had been to continue, and he was forced to hold you down and proceed; joining his spirit with yours in an effort to keep you alive and share in your torment, despite the very real danger of being pulled into the void with you by doing so.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The pain that had bled through your connection with him had been excruciating to the point that it had taken his breath away, and he hadn't been able to make sense of it, nor understand for a moment where he was going wrong. All he could do was persevere, giving all of his great strength over to the cause and withdrawing the shaft little by little with the sheer power of his words and will alone. Your desperate cries had grown louder, but he had managed to block them out, ignoring both them and the fingers twisting painfully into his shirt to concentrate only on the incantation that would save you and prevent you being taken from him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>With stinging tears streaming openly down his face, his biggest fear had become palpable when your struggles had eventually subsided and you started to lose consciousness all over again; and for the second time that day he had felt the icy claws of grief clutching at his heart in the notion that he would be destined to lose you just as he had with your father. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Just as he had with everyone.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Despair had overwhelmed him when you had become lifeless beneath his touch and he had pulled you up into his arms to hold you close and offer you the last of his remaining strength out of sheer desperation alone. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Directing the flow of energy straight into your barely beating heart, he had felt the remnants of his power leave him, depleting him of everything he had left in one final surge, one final hope.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>And then, at last, against all imagining, his prayers had been answered.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>As soon as the faint glow had died at his fingertips, a well of fresh blood had erupted hot against his skin, followed by the smallest ripple of movement as the broken shaft had finally risen clear of your breast to tumble with a wet clatter on to the sandstone floor, leaving nothing behind but a small puncture wound within your flesh that was already rapidly closing in its absence. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Overwhelmed with the relief that he had somehow managed to accomplish the impossible without a moment to spare, he had slumped in exhaustion and buried his face into your hair, allowing himself just a few seconds to rest and let his darkening vision return to normal before finally confronting the source of all your agony.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Nothing could have prepared him for the torment he had felt when he had at last opened his eyes and looked down upon the shaft still glistening wetly on the floor, nor the horror that had made his blood boil when he had seen the numerous wicked barbs cast into the arrowhead like steel branches of some deadly pine tree.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>At last, the cause of all your pain was made clear to him and his eyes had filled with renewed tears at the thought of those savage hooks slowly ripping through your flesh as he had tried to remove it, causing you far more injury than he had, in fact, healed.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>And it was that very knowledge that tortured him now.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Despite all of his great power and all his vast strength, he had still been unable to protect you from the torment you had endured for him, and the unbearable guilt of it ate away at his soul while he kept his silent vigil by your side.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"She will be all right, my king."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil flinches, having been so lost in his despairing thoughts that he had not heard Serindiel return. He lifts his silver head, his watery eyes reluctantly leaving your deathly pale face to glance up at the tiny, copper haired elleth as she places a tray of tea and sweet pastries on to the bedside table. "How can you know this?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She pours two cups of the hot liquid and sets one beside him before returning wearily to the chair at the other side of the bed with her own. "Because I have known her since we were children. And I know it would take more than this to keep her from her devotion to you. She is not only strong, but stubborn as well."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His eyes falls back to you, freshly bathed by the little elleth and laying peacefully amidst the swath of soft blankets he had cocooned you in, and Serindiel studies him in silence, taking in his gaunt and haggard appearance as he reaches out to gently grasp the limp hand that rested above the covers, her heart near breaking for him and the devastated expression he still wore.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She, along with Feren, had arrived at the king's chambers having collected a few of your belongings at his request, only to find him sat on the floor in a state of utter distress with your half naked and blood smeared body clutched tight against his chest and endless tears clearing little paths down his gore-streaked face.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>For a single terror-inducing moment she had feared you dead and her heart had completely shattered within her chest; but then, against all hope, you had stirred gently in the king's arms and her legs had been taken from under her with the sheer force of her relief.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Only after much coaxing and persuading by an equally relieved Feren had Thranduil finally handed you over to her care, and she had bathed you of the filth that besmirched you as best as she could whilst the high captain himself had tended to and assisted his king. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>Once you were clean, she had changed you into the nightdress he'd requested she bring for you, and then, even though it was apparent he could still barely walk, Thranduil had insisted on carrying you to his bed himself, and there he had placed you, and there he had stayed; leaving her to keep him company whilst Feren withdrew to guard the door.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>All through the dawn hours she had sat with him in his distress and, in light of his despair, had soon forgotten the intial nervousness she had felt at being left alone with her lord in his private rooms. In fact, she had never seen anyone look so lost or broken before and it cast a whole new perspective on the elven king for her; ridding him completely of the renowned cold and ill-tempered persona that he was usually associated with and leaving behind someone far more real and approachable.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Any intimidation he had recently possessed for her vanished entirely in consideration of his current state, and now she knew exactly what you had been describing for her when you had told her about him; and she could truly see why it was that you loved him so much. There was something so very vulnerable and innocent about him, almost childlike, and it made Serindiel feel suddenly quite protective of him. So much so that she found herself longing to comfort him from his grief and worry, but was still not sure how to go about doing so, nor what she could ever say that would reassure him and set his heart and mind at rest.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She watches quietly as he continues to gaze down at you in desperation, fervently trying to make you well through sheer willpower alone it seemed, and she was therefore surprised when he eventually breaks the silence again himself. "Everything I have ever loved in my life has left me. Everything I touch ultimately turns to ash. Why should this be any different?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He said it with such softness that it was almost as if he were asking the question of himself, and Serindiel could only stare at his fair profile in disbelief; taken aback by the depth of self-loathing and sadness that had crept into his velvet voice and not really knowing how to respond to it, nor quite understanding the full meaning behind his statement. She ponders his words for a long moment, carefully searching for a way to ease him from whatever dark paths his thoughts had led him on before thinking to answer; "Permission to speak freely with you, my lord?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He nods once without taking his eyes from you and she continues; "Then tell me. When was the last time you looked around your halls?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Surprised by the subject change, he finally looks up at her, not understanding the relevancy of her question; "I see them daily."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She takes a sip of her tea and nods matter-of-factly; "See them, yes. But I mean <em>truly</em> looked. Just taken a moment to stand and actually appreciate the beauty of them?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He frowns, unable to recall when he had last done so, and Serindiel smiles softly, seeing her answer clear in the lines of his furrowed brow. She leans forward the better to see him, her tone filled with warmth and kindness; "You see, I <em>do</em> look, my king. Every single time I step outside of my door, I look. And I know I speak for us all when I say I feel blessed to have such a home as this. To your people, this is the safest and most beautiful of all the kingdoms of Middle-Earth, and it was <em>you</em> who gave us that. All of this comes from <em>you</em>. And we do not forget it as you seem to have done. So forgive me if I say that I nor anyone else could ever agree with your assessment that everything you touch turns to ash. These halls alone are proof enough to the contrary."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Stunned into silence, he can only gaze back at her as she gestures towards you and continues in her effort to reassure him; "Nor does everyone leave you. Your people never have, and neither will she. We will follow you unto the ends of the world; and not because we have to, but because we <em>want</em> to. You are also forgetting that you, and your father before you, are the kings we <em>chose</em>. And we have never once regretted that choice. When you came here, you did not try to alter our way of life in any way, but embraced it and enriched it beyond all our hopes and dreams." She relaxes back into her seat, her voice earnest and devoid of any lie, "You have fought for us, protected us, and provided for us and I, for one, am proud to have such a king as you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A deep ache settles within his chest at her words and he suddenly feels very humbled by the little elleth; "Why are you being so kind?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She raises one perfectly arched brow, surprised by his question. "Why ever would I not be?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He studies her thoughtfully as she awaits his answer, finding himself more comforted by her presence than he ever could have imagined; "I am well aware of the reputation I have within my halls. So kindness is not something I generally look for or expect to receive."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She sighs, feeling genuinely sorry for him, knowing she too had once been guilty of judging him only on appearances; "Please try to forgive us if you can, my lord. It is only because most have never had the pleasure of actually spending time with you or knowing you that we form such unjust opinions. However, those opinions do not mean that you are still not respected and adored by your people. Nothing could be further from the truth."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He dismisses her apology with a small wave of a hand; "I do forgive them. As much as it pains me to admit it, my reputation is well earned and thoroughly deserved."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Her chocolate eyes soften at his words; "Are you always so hard on yourself?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"You are the second person to accuse me of such these past hours."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil's eyes return to you, the weight of sadness still heavy in their pale depths; "Just before we were attacked I was being roundly chastised for that very same thing."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Serindiel raises a questioning brow and he continues; "She asked me to dance with her at the festivities, you see."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>The little elleth gazes at him perplexed, unable to follow the train of the king's thoughts, nor understand why those simple words had only seemed to vastly increase his visible hurt. She waits patiently for him to explain himself, thinking that it would be impossible for anyone to look more helpless than he did right now.</p>
</div><div><p>He sighs softly, his expression one of deepest remorse; "Such a simple thing to ask for and yet I could not even bring myself to grant it to her. I rejected her and it caused a disagreement between us." He shakes his head at his own stupidity; "How I regret it now."</p>
<p></p><div><p>Serindiel's brow furrows with further confusion at the sorrow present in his gentle tone; "Well, I am sure you had your reasons and I very much doubt she would harbour any slight against you, my lord. That is not her way."</p></div><div><p>"Yes. You are right, of course. She didn't harbour any grudge at all. She understood." He picks up the cup of tea she had poured for him, clutching it tightly to his chest like a shield against the permanent and painful constriction that had settled there so long ago; "You see, the last person I had danced with was my wife .. before she... before..."</p></div><div><p>Despite his best efforts, his rich voice still breaks and he trails off, unable to say the words out loud; and her delicate features soften as a wave understanding crashes over her, filling the depths of her kind eyes with endless compassion for him; "I am so very sorry, my king."</p></div><div><p>He nods in gratitude for her words and takes a sip of the hot liquid to compose himself before he continues, needing to voice what was truly troubling him lest he go mad; "She knew this, but she asked me anyway; and not for herself, you understand. It was for the very same reason you have just pointed out to me. She too believes I constantly punish myself and in doing so, the people also, by always remaining so detached by my grief and forgetting what it is to actually live. And she was right."</p></div><div><p>He reaches out for your hand again, his thumb tracing the backs of your fingers; "What a fool I have been."</p></div><div><p>Unable to bear his hurt any longer, Serindiel stands and moves around the bed, pushing aside the last of her trepidation in her want to comfort him. She settles on the edge of the mattress beside his chair and gazes at him earnestly; "It is not foolish to grieve, my lord."</p></div><div><p>He shakes his head and gives her a wan smile; "No, it is not. But it is foolish to let that grief rule you and become you, and that it what I have done. And it pains me that it took almost losing someone else I care about for me to see it."</p></div><div><p>His eyes roam your face, lingering on the linen bandage just visible beneath the neckline of your nightdress; "I suffer for it now more than I can say. Suffer because, in that enduring grief, I could not grant something so simple to someone who was willing to give up everything for me. She saved my life without a moment's hesitation and I feel so wretched and undeserving of it. I would do anything I could to try and make amends for it if she would but come back to me." </p></div><div><p>He falls silent for a moment, contemplating his own folly whilst Serindiel waits patiently for him to continue, sensing his need to voice his troubles and honoured that he would feel comfortable enough to share them with her.</p></div><div><p>He sighs sadly as he thinks over the past days, "As you can imagine, it is very difficult for someone in my position to have any real friendships, and she is the first person in so long to have taken the time to look at me without any judgement and try to see beneath both my flaws and my status. She has no idea how much that has meant to me and I do not know how I have managed without her all these years. I am sure I have thoroughly annoyed her with my constant and vain need for her attention because of it."</p></div><div><p>Serindiel smiles knowingly, "Well, I am sure that is something we have in common then, my king. However, if she can suffer me for over three thousand years and still find it in her sweet heart to love me, then I am sure she can do so with you just as well."</p></div><div><p>Despite himself, a hint of wickedness returns to his tired eyes; "But you are positively charming, and surely must be of no trouble to anyone at all."</p></div><div><p>She eyes him shrewdly as she stands to refill both of their cups from the pot; "You have known me but a few hours and already I can sense that you do not believe your own fair words, my lord."</p></div><div><p>As hoped his cheeks dimple into the ghost of a smile as she hands him his tea, and her heart gladdens at the sight. She perches back on the edge of the bed next to his chair and continues in her effort to make him feel better; "She will recover before you know it, you'll see. And then you had better prepare yourself. Only she would ever dare to reprimand a king for his own good and, knowing her as I do, I can almost guarantee that she has not finished with doing so just yet."</p></div><div><p>He lifts a single, dark brow, his smile continuing to grow over the rim of his cup, "If she is anything like her father, which she appears to be, then I can also say with absolute certainty that she is no way done with chastising me. She had already promised me another admonition if we should ever survive the attack."</p></div><div><p>Serindiel laughs softly; "Then you have yet another moment of misery to look forward to, my lord."</p></div><div><p>He murmurs in agreement before looking back at the little elleth curiously; "You say you have been friends since you were children?"</p></div><div><p>Serindiel takes a sip of her own tea and nods, "Yes, my lord. Since my sixth year. She is slightly older however, and was eight when we first met."</p></div><div><p>He tilts his head as he studies her, wishing, as always, to know more about you and finding Serindiel far more forthcoming with information than either yourself or Feren. "Tell me.."</p></div><div><p>She shifts to get more comfortable and collects her thoughts for a moment before happily fulfilling his request as he had hoped. "I remember it as though it were yesterday. We were living in the dark moutains at the time, and it was one of the hottest summers I can ever recall there or since; so hot there wasn't any trace of snow left even on the highest peaks. I had managed to find some respite from the sun by the banks of the river and was sitting there making dresses for my dolls when she approached me and asked me why I was alone instead of playing with the other children."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil gazes back at her with intrigue, distracted further from his melancholy by her willingness to tell him anything he wished to know; "And why were you not playing with the other children?"</p></div><div><p>"Because, believe it or not, I was extremely shy and found it difficult to make friends. Besides, the others often teased me for my smaller stature, and I never found much in common with those who didn't; having all together different interests. While they were playing at being soldiers, I preferred to sit quietly and stitch. So, I never really had a friend either, until her." She smiles with the memory, her eyes glazed and distant as she thinks back to that happy time; "I thought she was some sort of spirit when I first saw her. She was .. <em>is .. </em>so beautiful, and her hair... Well, I had never before seen you or any of the nobles, so I did not realise at the time that it was perfectly natural for it to be that way. In my innocence, I fancied her to be starlight made flesh, and when she sat down next to me all I could do was stare at her. I'm sure she must have thought me mad or worse."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil smirks as he imagines the scene clearly; "In your defence, I myself am not immune and had a similar reaction when I first saw her in the ruins of Dale."</p></div><div><p>She chuckles as she takes another sip of her tea and then continues; "Regardless, my awe did not seem to put her off and she spent the entire day making outfits with me out of scraps of cloth, and then searched me out every day after that. She quickly became like a big sister and I followed her everywhere. She always looked after me, and because she was so popular with the other children, I soon found myself surrounded by many new friends that I otherwise would not have had the confidence to gain. Friends that I still have to this day thanks to her." </p></div><div><p>Thranduil's eyes soften as he studies the tiny redhead, seeing her love for you shining in her face as clear as day, just as he had before at the festivities; "And thanks to yourself also, I would say."</p></div><div><p>She gives him a grateful smile, and he encourages her further, genuinely interested and finding himself warming to her more and more. "And what of your parents? How did they receive this new friendship?"</p></div><div><p>She frowns slightly as she recalls the first time she had taken you to meet them, "In the beginning they were troubled by it. Not that they had anything against her of course; they didn't. She was always so kind and well mannered. But, as I said, I had never even seen a Sindar noble until that point, so it was obviously unheard of for one to choose to spend time with us instead of keeping to their own. I think my parents were perhaps worried that I would end up hurt when either her own parents found out and took her away, or she left by herself when she realised her status and our differences. But she never did leave; never once saw those differences, and she soon had even them won over. Likewise, her parents welcomed me with open arms and treated me as one of their family. Our fathers even became great friends themselves after a while, and we ourselves have always been inseparable."</p></div><div><p>She finishes her tea while he ponders her words, struggling to conceal the yawn that crept up on her unexpectedly. Not fooled for a moment, Thranduil glances up at her apologetically, "Forgive me, I have kept you talking when you are weary. You should go and get some rest, little one."</p></div><div><p>She gives him a warm smile and shakes her head, copper curls tumbling over the rich green velvet of her tunic; "There is nothing to forgive, my king. I am happy to stay if you would prefer to rest yourself. You have exerted yourself much these past hours and need it far more than I do."</p></div><div><p>He returns her smile, touched by her thoughtfulness, "Maybe so, but I do not think I could find rest even if I wanted to and one of us at least should be allowed to get some sleep."</p></div><div><p>"Very well. Far be it from me to argue with my king." She jumps to her feet in a single fluid movement and places her empty cup down on the tray, "But if you will not rest, at least finish the tea and try to eat something." She pauses to look him over critically, "And perhaps a relaxing bath would be beneficial also?"</p></div><div><p>He follows her gaze and then groans, having been so preoccupied with everything else that he had completely neglected to change out of the clothes he had been wearing when he had healed you, and was, in fact, still covered from head to toe in dried blood. The very sight of it brings back the feelings of guilt and remorse that had been momentarily kept at bay by his more pleasant conversation with the elleth and his heart soon drops like lead within his chest.</p></div><div><p>A gentle hand to his shoulder pulls him back from the brink of this despair and he looks up to find Serindiel gazing at him with sympathy and understanding. "She <em>will</em> be all right, my king."</p></div><div><p>The utter conviction in her eyes and voice allows him to relax just a little and she smiles reassuringly when she notices the change in his bearing. "Is there anything I can get for you before I retire?"</p></div><div><p>He shakes his silver head, grateful for her swift intervention into his change of mood; "No, thank you. But perhaps you could tell Feren to get some rest also. It would not do to have both of my captains incapacitated."</p></div><div><p>"Of course. Send for me if there is any change?" He nods and she gives his shoulder a small squeeze of reassurance and thanks before releasing him, surprising herself with her own boldness, "In fact, send for me if you need anything at all. No matter the time. Even if it is just to give you a break, I am more than happy to do so, my lord."</p></div><div><p>He gives her a small smile; "You have my word that you shall be the first to know, thank you Serindiel."</p></div><div><p>"My king." </p></div><div><p>She bows low before him before heading off towards the stairs. However, she had barely taken more than a few paces when he called her back; "Serindiel?"</p></div><div><p>"Yes, my lord?"</p></div><div><p>Pale eyes move between her much darker ones as he studies her in the soft glow of the lanterns; "I am truly grateful. For everything."</p></div><div><p>A gentle smile lights up her delicate features in reponse, "It is a pleasure, my king. And forgive me for being forward in saying as such, but I would just like to add that she is not the only real friend you could have if ever you were to wish otherwise."</p></div><div><p>Without waiting for an answer, she inclines her head respectfully and then carries on her way, leaving the elven king humbled by her for the second time that evening and unable to do anything other than stare after her retreating figure as she exits his rooms.</p></div><div><p>Only when he heard the faint sound of the door clicking after her did he deign to move again. His eyes return to you as he brings your hand back to his lips, noting the easing of your breathing with a well of relief. Satisfied that you would be in no immediate danger if he should take a moment, he rises to bathe himself of the filth from both the battle and its subsequent hours, wanting to be rid of the reminder of your pain lest he go mad, whilst all the while thinking it would not be beneficial for you to see it either should you wake.</p></div><div><p>Disrobing quickly, he steps into the pool with a soft groan of satisfaction, letting the cool waters ease the aching weariness in every part of his neglected body as he thinks over everything Serindiel had told him. </p></div><div><p>He had spoken the truth when he had expressed his gratitude. He had been glad of her company, and her uncanny ability to make him feel better at such a time was something that he appreciated about her very much. Once again he had found kindness and compassion where he had least expected it, and it only served to give your words to him the previous night more weight within his mind. He had spent so long wrapped up in his burdens and detachment that he had neglected not only himself, but his people whilst doing so. And he had to change that for the sake of his kingdom. He knew that now. He was only sorry that it had taken him so long to realise it.</p></div><div><p>He sighs deeply at his own idiocy as he finishes cleansing himself and steps out of the water, wondering how to go about fixing the issues that he himself had created and not finding any easy answer to his problems. Only once he was dressed in a clean shirt and legging pants did he return to your side, and retaking up his previous position, he settles himself in for the long hours of waiting, pushing aside his feelings of exhaustion in his want to watch over you.</p></div><div><p>Pressing a soft kiss to your brow, he takes your hand back in his, his glacial eyes never once leaving your face as he wills you to come back to him, knowing he needed you to stand by him now more than ever. </p></div><div><p>It was as the night fell at its deepest that he finally got his wish. The vast caverns outside his balcony had long since grown quiet and the lanterns had dimmed as the kingdom had settled itself down to sleep, but still he had not moved from your side, finding the gloom and silence almost comforting after the long hours of panic and confusion that had reigned since the attack.</p></div></div><div><p>The pleasant sensation of warm, gentle fingers lacing with yours, and a thumb running soft spiral patterns over your skin was what finally brought you from your peaceful slumber, and you return the pressure on the hand enclosing yours, seeking the comfort that you knew subconsciously it would provide.</p>
<p></p><div>
<p></p><div>
<p></p><div><p>"Caltariel?"</p></div><div><p>Your eyes flutter open at the sound of his warm voice, and you blink rapidly to focus up at the roughly hewn rock of the ceiling, feeling thoroughly confused and disoriented by the strangeness of the unfamiliar patterning and wondering suddenly where you were. The slightest movement to your right catches your attention and you turn your head to see the king sitting by your side, his expression one of great relief and yet tinged with such a depth of sadness that it hurt your heart just to bear witness to it.</p></div><div><p>Frowning, you untangle your fingers from his to lift your hand up to his face, wanting to wipe away the pain and weariness that was written so clearly in every flawless part of it. "Stop it.."</p></div><div><p>His topaz eyes fill with deepest emotion as soon as the whispered words leave your lips and he shakes his head, almost beside himself with remorse. "I can not.. I will never forgive myse -"</p></div><div><p>"Stop it.." </p></div><div><p>Your gaze burns into his, daring him to continue and he immediately falls silent, his eyes never leaving yours as you brush your thumb over the swell of his cheek and study him carefully; taking in his haggard appearance and ashen complexion, your concern only intensifying when you could neither sense or feel his spirit nor the vast energy that usually charged the air around him. </p></div><div><p>It was the first time in your life that you had ever seen an elf look physically ill, and what frightened you the most was that you had never thought it possible for this particular elf. He had always seemed so strong and invincible to you, and you began to panic now at seeing him in such a weakened state. "Why can I not feel you..?"</p></div><div><p>Your quiet voice trembles and the anxiety it contained tears at his soul, but still he remains silent as your hand slides from his face to press flat against his chest, searching desperately for any small sign of his aura but finding nothing except the steady beating of his heart.</p></div><div><p>Sensing your increasing worry, he takes your hand from his breast and presses a fervent kiss into your palm; "Do not fret, dear one. I am just fatigued is all."</p></div><div><p>Wanting to distract you from your particular line of questioning, he releases you and stands to pick up the waterskin from the bedside table, his movements still graceful despite his weariness. "How do you feel?"</p></div><div><p>Noting his avoidance with ease, you shift to try and see him better and then hiss in pain when your entire body screams in protest of the movement. "Wonderful.."</p></div><div><p>Ignoring your sarcasm, he rushes to help you, sinking down on to the edge of the mattress to wrap his arms around you and support you to sit up, his face a mask of deepest concern; "Careful, now. You are still badly bruised, and it will take a few days for the pain to subside.." </p></div><div><p>You lean against him in exhaustion when you do finally manage to straighten up, and he holds you close as he hands you the waterskin, ".. Here, drink this. It will help."</p></div><div><p>You do as requested, more desperate for the cool water to ease the dryness of your throat than you were for the herbs it contained. Nevertheless, you let him take your weight as you swallow several long drafts and then sag in relief when the shards of agony in your chest and stomach begin to diminish to a numb tingling that immediately spread throughout your entire body.</p></div><div><p>Thankful for the reprieve, you hand him back the flask and then press your face into his shoulder, surprising him with your continued initiation of intimacy. "Better?"</p></div><div><p>You nod your head into the soft material of his shirt and he discards the waterskin to the floor so he could wrap his arms around you instead. You murmur in satisfaction of the gesture, your aching body melting into his without hesitation as the heat of him begins to bleed through your skin and ease you of your hurt.</p></div><div><p>Satisfied that the herbs would work, he buries his face into the soft hair that crowned the top of your head, unable to stop himself revelling in having the closeness he had so desired, even if only for a moment.</p></div><div><p>Lulled by the warmth of him and the feeling of safety his embrace provided, you soon begin to relax, even more so when the athelas finally manages to sweep away the last vestiges of pain in your chest and stomach. It was in the absence of those agonising shards that you now become aware of another sensation; one that was buried deep within your breast, but strong to the point that you wondered how you ever could have missed it; and you immediately begin to feel overwhelmed when you finally recognise it for what it was. "I feel you.."</p></div><div><p>Confused, he pulls back slightly to look at you and you lift your head to meet the icy blue of his gaze; "I feel you here.."</p></div><div><p>You press your hand over your heart, your questioning eyes filling with tears; and he knew in that moment that you realised what he'd done and what he had risked.</p></div><div><p>Fully expecting your anger, he avoids looking at you and chews on the inside of his cheek, refusing to regret his actions, but unable to bear the hurt in your pale face; "It will pass in a few days.."</p></div><div><p>You lift a hand to brush along his jaw, the silken strands of his white hair slipping smoothly across the backs of your fingers as you turn him back to face you; "I think that will break my heart most of all.."</p></div><div><p>His tired eyes soften at your words, and you reach out for him, pushing aside any thought of impropriety to press your lips softly against his cheek. "Thank you.."</p></div><div><p>Your whispered voice breaks with emotion and he closes his eyes, your sweet breath still warm against his face as he draws you close again, thinking he would have given it all just to keep you in his arms like this forever.</p></div></div></div></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Thranduil wakes from the deepest and most peaceful sleep he could ever recall having, his mind still filled with the fading images from his pleasant dreams of starlight hair.</p><p>Yawning, he stretches himself out languidly and then tenses in surprise when he suddenly becomes aware of an unexpected weight pressing down against his body and restricting his movement. Blinking rapidly, he opens his eyes to find the very same hair he'd just been thinking of fanned out across his chest like a halo of spun mithril, and he rubs at his face, sure he must still be dreaming.</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>"Caltariel?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You stir against him, your fingers tightening their grip in the loose folds of his shirt as you murmur his name in response but sleep soundly on, and Thranduil couldn't help but smile when the memories of the previous night all come flooding back to mind to ease his confusion. </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He replays them now, recalling how you had reached out for him so willingly, and how soft your lips had been against his skin as he had held you tightly in pure gratitude of you not being taken from him. He remembers also how you had fallen gradually heavier in his arms as you had drifted back off to sleep; content it seemed to find your rest inside his protective embrace.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>To his great credit, he had reluctantly attempted to lay you back into the comfort of the mattress when you had done so, lifting you gently so as not to wake you or cause you any pain; but as soon as he had moved even an inch, your arms had tightened around his shoulders, preventing any thought he'd had of escape and leaving him with no alternative other than to lay back into the pillows himself and take you with him.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Convinced that he would try to extricate himself from under you as soon as you shifted in your sleep, he had held you a little while longer and waited patiently; but you had neither moved nor released him, and if he was being entirely honest, he hadn't tried at all to get you to do otherwise. Exhausted and more than glad to have you near, he had soon followed you into the blessed realms of sleep, thinking he would concern himself with the propriety of it all tomorrow. Or rather he wouldn't. He could not care less and would leave that to you instead.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He smirks with the idea of what your reaction would be when you woke up, and wonders fleetingly if he shouldn't try to make his move now to spare you from that undoubted embarrassment; but the largest part of him just couldn't bear to let you go, and so he relaxes back into the pillows instead and consigns himself to wait.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It was at least a good hour later when you eventually did begin to stir, and feeling warm and tranquil, you sigh in contentment and bury your face deeper into the solid yet comfortable mattress on which you were resting, frowning when it seemed to move with you, rising and falling steadily beneath your head.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Unable to make sense of it, you rub at your eyes and try to rouse yourself, becoming aware as you did so of a familiar beating that accompanied this movement; a beating that sent you from the cusp of waking to borderline panic within a split second when your sleep clouded mind finally put all the pieces together at once.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Your eyes fly open in an instant and your face immediately flushes hot when your memory catches up with you, allowing you to realise exactly where it was you had been sleeping; and what on. You burn with the embarrassment now forming in the pit of your stomach and, feeling suddenly anxious of what his reaction would be, you take a deep breath and steel yourself to look up at your king.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Eyes closed and face peaceful, he rests amidst a pile of soft pillows, and you exhale in relief at finding him still sleeping, glad you would not have to answer to him regarding your conduct just yet. Wanting to at least put a more reasonable space between you before that moment came however, you glance around you and then carefully begin to untangle yourself from him, praying to all the powers in existence that you would not disturb him from his slumber.</p>
</div><div><p>No sooner had you begun to slip your leg from between his when he shifts, making you tense in alarm as his arms tighten around your waist and prevent you from moving even a fraction away from your very intimate position against his chest. Thoroughly trapped and with nothing to do except wait for him to wake up, you slump into his firm hold and sincerely hope that he would forgive you for your impropriety. </p>
<p></p><div><p>Resigned to your fate, you take deep breaths to soothe the frantic pounding behind your bruised ribs and then return your eyes to his face, desperate to calm your nerves and unable to stop yourself from taking this most unfortunate opportunity to study him openly and without reserve.</p></div><div><p>He was beautiful beyond all compare, of course. So much so that it was entirely intimidating, and you doubted very much that anyone would ever be able to find a single flaw that could diminish his loveliness even if they had wanted to. And you would fight anyone who did.</p></div><div><p>But that wasn't what captivated you the most about him. Not at all.</p><p>For you, his physical magnificence was merely a reflection of the true beauty that lay within; hidden behind a detached façade born of grief and surrounded by the many walls of steel he had constructed over the long years to protect himself from his hurt. Nevertheless, it was something he had never once been able to hide from you, and you had always been aware of its existence even if others were not; it was right there in his tender heart.</p>
<p></p><div><p>Your father had always said as much, but now you had seen it for yourself; had seen the inherent kindness that resided deep within his soul, had basked in its golden light as he had called you back from the darkness that awaited you, just as you could feel it even now, still coursing throughout your veins.</p></div><div><p>He was entirely good. And loving to a fault. He could not deny it any longer, and you would not allow him to.</p></div><div><p>Almost without thinking, you reach up to brush the backs of your fingers along the smooth line of his jaw, searching for any sign of his vast spirit and feeling deeply concerned when you could still neither feel nor sense any trace of it.</p></div><div><p>A sorrowful ache settles in your chest with the knowledge of what he'd given for you and of lengths he'd gone to just so that you might live, and it was this same knowledge that now fuelled your determination to stand by him, protect him and do whatever you could to see him happy again, no matter the cost. </p></div><div><p>Overcome with affection, you brush away the silken strands of white hair that framed his face and tumbled about his shoulders to press your lips against his cheek, conveying all your devotion for him into this one simple gesture alone. "I love you."</p></div><div><p>The whispered words left your lips unbidden, but you could not deny their validity and nor would you want to. You had always loved him, and now, since the attack, that adoration had grown into something even more binding, etching him into your heart for all eternity.</p></div><div><p>You would follow him to the ends of the world and back again, and there wasn't a single thing he could do about it except resign himself to that fact. You return your lips to his soft skin with the silent promise of just that, and then lay back against his shoulder, wanting to listen to the sound of his steady heartbeat for a little while longer before having to deal with all the consequences of doing so.</p></div><div><p>"Kissing your king without his consent is a punishable offence, you know.."</p></div><div><p>You flinch in horror as his velvet voice breaks the comfortable silence and the colour that had only just begun to recede from your face floods back again with a vengeance. "My lord.. I .."</p></div><div><p>Mortified and unable to think of a single excuse for your behaviour, you pull back to look at him, finding him gazing up at you with one eye open and a blank, unreadable expression on his face; "I... I'm so sorry. Please forgive me..."</p></div><div><p>He opens both eyes to study you a moment, showing nothing of his thoughts; "What for?"</p></div><div><p>Looking anywhere but at him, you gesture between the both of you; "That.. This .. <em>Everything</em>.. "</p></div><div><p>Unable to keep a straight face any longer, he snorts with amusement and reaches up to cradle your cheek in his palm; "You are so ridiculous.. There is nothing <em>to</em> forgive. And I was only joking about the kiss. I very much enjoyed it..." He rubs at your burning skin with his thumb, "Almost as much as I enjoy this, in fact.."</p></div><div><p>His words only serve to increase the heat beneath his fingertips and your eyes flick back to his, full of pleading; "My lord.. <em>please</em>.."</p></div></div></div><div>
  <p>He relents in the face of your utter discomfort, but still makes no attempt to distance himself or relinquish his hold on you; "I am sorry, Caltariel. What is it that troubles you so?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Aside from the fact that I fell asleep and then spent the night in the arms of my king, you mean?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He gazes up at you placidly; "Do I really offend you so much, dear one?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I... what?" You frown, completely caught off guard and confused as to why on earth he would ever think such a thing. "No. Of course not!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"And did you not sleep well?"</p>
</div><div><p>"Yes, but.. "</p>
<p></p><div><p>He raises a brow, his expression one of complete calm. "Then I fail to see the issue, dearest."</p></div><div><p>You shake your head incredulously, unable to figure out why he was not reacting to this in the way you had thought he would. "The issue is that it was very inappropriate for me to do so and I am more ashamed of myself than you could ever imagine."</p></div><div><p>"Why?" He gazes at you curiously, almost trying to pull the thoughts from your mind; "As we are the only two people who will ever know of our sleeping arrangements last night, then it is only what we think that should matter. If neither of us are offended by it, as I am not, then everything else is irrelevant."</p></div><div><p>"You're not angry then or... or <em>upset</em>?"</p></div><div><p>His expression softens when he finally realises what it was that was truly worrying you, and he immediately looks to reassure you. "Of course not, dear one. It bothers me very much that you thought I would be, and I know I only have myself to blame for that due to my behaviour at the festivities. Behaviour I have deeply regretted ever since, I might add." He sighs, feeling thoroughly digusted with himself; "On the contrary, it gladdens my heart to know that you felt safe enough to fall asleep beside me, and likewise, you should know that I felt the same at having you near and slept better than I have in an age. That level of trust between us means a great deal to me and I could never be angry or upset at such a thing."</p></div><div><p>He reaches out for you and draws you close again before you could protest, moved that you had once more thought of him before yourself; "Forgive me, Caltariel. Maybe this <em>would</em> have bothered me once, but my perspective has been drastically altered of late and the things that used to matter so much to me now seem insignificant in comparison to those I've learned are truly important. You were right about everything, dear one. I <em>have</em> been neglectful."</p></div><div><p>Head resting back against his shoulder, you wrap your arms around him to comfort him, still feeling more than a little embarrassed at being so intimate, yet finding that feeling pushed aside in the relief that he was neither hurt nor angry as you had assumed he would be; "Stop it."</p></div><div><p>He smiles into your hair at the familiar reprimand and rubs your back in apology; "As you command, Arhestiel."</p></div><div><p>"Careful now. I could really get used to that."</p></div><div><p>"Is that so?" You murmur in agreement and he tilts his head to look at you, his eyes shining with mischief; "Just as I could get used to such soft kisses and sweet words every morning."</p></div><div><p>You gasp and stare up at him in abject horror, your face instantly resplendent once again; "You were awake!?"</p></div><div><p>He nods, struggling to contain his amusement; "I had been awake for quite a while before you yourself, yes."</p></div><div><p>"Why didn't you tell me!?"</p></div><div><p>He smirks at your expression of outrage, obviously feeling very pleased with himself; "And miss out on such pleasant affection? Absolutely not."</p></div><div><p>You groan and shake your head in absolute despair; "Affection I very much regret right now, as I really don't like you at all in this moment."</p></div><div><p>Laughing softly he presses a swift kiss to your brow. "Lies, Caltariel. Your racing heart betrays you. As did your words earlier." </p></div><div><p>You glare at him with all the intensity you could muster and he lets his face fall into a mask of pure innocence that did not fool you for a second; "Would you like some tea?"</p></div><div><p>You nod, still not ready to forgive him despite his effort to make amends, "That would be welcome, yes."</p></div><div><p>"Very well. If it will ease your ire with me I shall go and make us some." Carefully and gently he moves out from beneath you and slides a plump pillow into his place so as not to jostle you; "How do you feel?"</p></div><div><p>You gaze at his broad back as he rises gracefully and stretches himself, admiring the muscular frame just visible through the thin cloth of his shirt. "At present I am comfortable, but I can not say it will be the same when I move."</p></div><div><p>He nods in understanding and reaches back to touch your cheek with the tips of his fingers; "Then don't move. I will bring you some herbs with the tea."</p></div><div><p>He picks up a tray from the bedside table and pads barefoot and silent across the room towards the stairs, and you note how tense and weary he still appeared to be as you watch his silver head disappear from sight.</p></div><div><p>You sigh at the thought and snuggle deeper into your pillow while listening to him moving about in the room below, glad that you had not caused him any hurt by being so intimate with him as you had feared you had. </p></div><div><p>His reaction to your asking him to dance had weighed heavily upon you, and you didn't think you could stand to cause him anything like that heartache ever again, not even for his own good. You cared for him deeply, and your worry over his wellbeing far outweighed any awkwardness you had felt over your accidental choice of sleeping arrangements. </p></div><div><p>You were still embarrassed that you had fallen asleep in his arms of course, and if you allowed yourself to think too much on it, you would probably start to panic at the impropriety of it all. But not to the level that you would have done before the attack. If anything had changed for him, then it had changed for you just the same; and now, despite the burning in your cheeks, you just couldn't regret being close to him. In fact, you wanted and craved it more than ever in the knowledge that you'd almost had it torn away from you forever. </p></div><div><p>You shiver at the notion and quickly look for something to distract your mind away from taking such paths, deciding that you would at least try to push yourself to sit up before he returned.</p></div><div><p>Tensing in preparation for the effort, you raise yourself up on an elbow and pull the pillow out from beneath you as you roll over on to your back, inhaling a sharp gasp when your chest instantly erupts into glass shards again. You pause for a moment, clenching your jaw against the pain of it before slowly sliding yourself back towards the headboard; frustrated by the exertion and toll it was taking on you to make even the most simplest of movements.</p></div><div><p>"Caltariel, stop. Let me help you."</p></div><div><p>You lift your head to look up at him as he suddenly reappears on the stairs with a tray of tea and a stack of parchments, "No. I need to do this for myself."</p></div><div><p>You take another deep breath and then push yourself with all your remaining strength and finally manage to straighten up and get into a sitting position. Panting, you sink back into the pillows with a relieved groan to find him watching you still with sympathetic eyes; "Are you always so stubborn?"</p></div><div><p>You clutch at your shoulder and will your frantic heart to slow; "It isn't stubbornness my king, but a will to recover. Which I shall not do if I constantly have to rely upon you for something as simple as being able to sit up."</p></div><div><p>He sighs as he places the tray on the bedside table and then sits himself down beside you; "Caltariel, you have had a terrible trauma and it will take quite a while before your strength fully returns. It is perfectly natural to require help while you heal and you should not push yourself so needlessly when I am here to offer you that help."</p></div><div><p>You nod and give him a wan smile; "I know, my lord. And I am truly grateful for your exceptional care of me and shall not be too proud to ask for your assistance should I need it. However, I am a captain of the king's army and I refuse to let mere pain best me, nor will I allow myself to succumb to such weakness."</p></div><div><p>He tilts his head as he regards you thoughtfully, admiring your strength of will and fortitude if nothing else; "Very well. But, just so that you're aware; if I ever feel that you <em>are</em> overexerting yourself, then I shall be forced to dote on you and carry you everywhere, captain or no."</p></div><div><p>You groan, unable to help laughing at his ridiculous teasing; "You're hopeless.."</p></div><div><p>His winks as he hands you the waterskin, "And yet you love me anyway."</p></div><div><p>"I have never once denied it." </p></div><div><p>You take the flask from him and swallow a long draught of the bitter concoction within, grateful for the pain relief if not the taste. A pleasant tingling immediately washes away the hurt caused to you by your movement and you rub at it thankfully, noticing your change of dress for the very first time; "I see you decided to strip me naked after all?" </p></div><div><p>He raises an amused brow, only too happy to play along with your games; "I would have been foolish to waste such an opportunity."</p></div><div><p>You nod in agreement, trying your hardest to keep a straight face; "I sincerely hope that I was paraded around the halls too as I requested?"</p></div><div><p>His cheeks dimple as he takes the flask from you and then pours you some tea; "Absolutely. Twice."</p></div><div><p>"Indeed?"</p></div><div><p>He nods and hands you the cup, "Yes. In fact there is a queue of potential suitors awaiting your attention outside my door because of it. Would you like me to show them in?"</p></div><div><p>You eye him shrewdly as you take a sip of the fruity liquid to wash away the bitterness of the herbs; "Lies.."</p></div><div><p>He relaxes back into the pillows beside you with a cup of his own, his fair face alight with mischief. "I would do no such thing."</p></div><div><p>"Hmm.." You study him for a moment, your expression dubious. "Are you seriously asking me to believe that you wouldn't have gutted anyone who dared?"</p></div><div><p>He snorts with mirth, recognising himself finally beaten by absolute truth; "You are beginning to know me so well, dearest."</p></div><div><p>You hum in agreement and he gazes at you affectionately; "Despite what you may think, I do have <em>some</em> decency. It was Serindiel who bathed and changed you. Not I."</p></div><div><p>You smile softly, glad to know she had been there; "Is she well?"</p><p>"Very. She kindly kept me company all through the long hours and left only a short while before you woke up last night." He pauses to take a sip of his tea before continuing; "I have taken the liberty of sending for something to eat and have invited her to join us. I thought that you might like to see her and I know she will be anxious to do likewise."</p></div><div><p>You nod, happy at the suggestion; "I would like that very much. And then, with your permission, I would return to my chambers to bathe and recover myself."</p></div><div><p>"No."</p></div><div><p>You glance up at him in surprise, "Why not?"</p></div><div><p>He gazes at you as though he couldn't quite believe you would ever ask such a foolish question of him; "Because you are my patient and therefore my responsibility. Serindiel will assist you with your needs when she arrives and you are free to rest as much as you wish, but you will remain here with me until I am satisfied that you are fully recovered."</p></div><div><p>You stare back at him dumbfounded; "But... I can not continue to trespass upon your personal space nor your privacy anymore my lord, especially as I am quite able to return to my own rooms and rest there."</p></div><div><p>He shakes his head, his ageless eyes suddenly very serious; "Absolutely out of the question, Caltariel. If it is my presence last night that has made you uncomfortable, then I shall enquire after another bed to quell that discomfort, but regardless, you will remain here until I say otherwise. And that is final."</p></div><div><p>Cowed by both his reprimand and his abrupt return to authority, you bow your head and avoid his penetrating gaze; "As you command, my king.."</p></div><div><p>He softens immediately in light of your submissive response, having not meant to be quite so short with you in his worry for your wellbeing, but unable to deny his anxiety at the thought of letting you leave his sight while so weak. He reaches out to tilt your chin with gentle fingertips, bringing your eyes back to his; "Forgive me, dearest. But it would be remiss of me to allow you to return to your chambers when you are still so unwell and in need of care. And as you will need your dressings changed daily for at least a week, I would be much more at ease if you stayed here with me so I can at the very least oversee that care."</p></div><div><p>"As you say, my lord.."</p></div><div><p>He sighs and tucks a wayward strand of silver behind your ear; "Don't do that. I <em>am</em> sorry for snapping at you. I'm just concerned about you is all and did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable." He rubs at your cheek, regretting the way he had presented his arguments; "I know I tease you, but I never mean any harm by it. However, if that <em>or</em> my care for you ever makes you feel truly uncomfortable, I would have you voice it so I can distance myself from you and put you at ease. I would always have you feel safe and relaxed in my company, dear one. Before anything else."</p></div></div><div>
  <p>You frown, not understanding why he would think that relevant; "I do feel safe with you, my king. I always have. My request to return to my own quarters was not because I feel uncomfortable with you in any way, but simply a desire not to intrude upon you any longer than was necessary. Nothing more."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He smiles softly, seeming almost relieved; "You are not intruding upon me, dear one. In fact, I could get so used to you being here that I may <em>never</em> let you leave."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You raise a brow, seeking to further alleviate the tense atmosphere that had developed between you; "I love a challenge almost as much as you do, my king. And I accept yours. You will be begging me to leave within the week."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He laughs quietly, his entire bearing relaxing instantly as he takes your cup from you and refills it; "Is that so?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You nod as he hands you your tea and takes his place beside you again, armed with the stack of parchment he had brought with him earlier; "We shall see. But I think you are greatly underestimating my affection for you, Caltariel."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You flush at his words and curl back into his side as he breaks the seal on the first scroll and swiftly scans the words it contained; "Dáin Ironfoot sent word yesterday, urgently requesting a meeting. He has agreed to my proposal of the first day of next week, however I may need to rearrange that now, as I would very much like you to be present when I meet with him."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You hum thoughtfully as you contemplate the new king under the mountain; "Don't be too swift to cancel. We still have five days and I may be well enough to ride by then. However, you should still send word to both him and the bowman regarding the orcs so that their people can be on the alert for further attack."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He ponders your words for a moment and then nods in agreement; "Very well. I will send warning of the attack and leave the meeting as it is for now. I can always rearrange it later if needed." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He discards the letter on to the bed and moves on to the next, his eyes passing over this one with distaste; "The court have also requested a dinner tomorrow to discuss recent events."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You snort derisively into your cup; "Oh? Are they planning on offering you their services to make the kingdom more secure, or do they just want to convince you to strike up a new and lucrative trade agreement with the dwarves?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>His face splits into an amused grin; "You're so cynical, dearest. And absolutely correct as far as the latter is concerned.." He pauses a moment, his eyes shining with possibility, "Perhaps I will delay that meeting too so that you might attend it with me. I can imagine it would be highly entertaining."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You shrug, feeling supremely unconcerned at the thought of facing them and about to tell him as such when the faintest sound of a knock reaches your ears.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil casts aside his letters and rises immediately. "Ah. It would seem our guest has finally arrived. And hopefully our breakfast as well." Without a moment's hesitation he strides across the room and, despite his obvious exhaustion, bounds down the stairs as graceful and agile as a young buck, leaving you to finish off your tea as you wait for him to return.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>A few seconds later you hear Serindiel's enthusiastic chatter drifting up from the room below and you can't help but smile as Thranduil comes back into view with the tiny elleth in tow, both of them carrying laden platters of food.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Her fair face lights up in pure joy when she sees you alert and sitting up in bed, and she almost dances across the room in her eagerness to greet you. "Well look who is back in the land of the living!"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She places the tray down on the bedside table before leaning in to kiss your cheek; "How are you feeling, love?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You scrunch your nose as her long hair tickles at your face; "Bruised, but otherwise well. The king has taken great care of me."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She pulls back to check you over with a critical eye, "Of that I have no doubt. He was worrying himself sick about you, as we all were."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You glance up at him as he busies himself with serving breakfast, unable to disguise the smallest hint of colour that had crept into his flawless skin; "Careful, Seri. I do believe our lord is blushing."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He gives a long suffering sigh and you both laugh at the indignant expression on his face. "I see I am being conspired against already."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Serindiel bites her lip and gazes at him fondly as she drops her bag and takes the chair on your other side; "On the contrary, my king. Your kindness does you great credit."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He smirks as he hands you both a plate piled high with food and returns to his seat beside you with his own; "You mean to say that I am not such an intimidating, cold-hearted misery after all?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You roll your eyes; "Let us not get carried away now. You're definitely still intimidating."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He gasps and stares at you in mock outrage; "Slander! I will have you know that I am positively meek! Aren't I, Serindiel?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She holds up her hands in surrender; "Don't involve me in your domestic disputes, my king. I would hate to be punished for treason."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You snigger wickedly, "Serindiel is delicate, my lord. She doesn't have the constitution that dungeons require."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She nods her head in firm agreement, her chocolate eyes earnest; "It would be terrible for my complexion."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil finally cracks, his happy laughter joyous and musical and making you both smile. He takes a deep breath and shakes his head; "How does anyone ever cope with the pair of you?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Why would they not? We're wonderful."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Thranduil eyes the little elleth dubiously, "Is that what they tell you?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You all burst into fits of giggles again and you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for both of them as you settle down to eat in earnest, not realising how hungry you had been until that moment and unable to recall when it was you last had a decent meal.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>It wasn't until you were feeling pleasantly full that your thoughts turned to something else that had been bothering you, and you look up at your childhood friend as she rubs the crumbs away from her fingers; "By the way, I'm really sorry about the dress, Seri."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She gazes at you incredulously; "Don't be so ridiculous. Clothes can be replaced. Friends can not. You're what matters and I'm just so relieved to know that you are all right. In fact, I almost cried when I received the king's message."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You give her a fond smile; "Forgive me. It's just that I am sad because you worked so hard on it and it was such a beautiful gown."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"I will make you another one, don't worry. I have lots of things planned for you now seeing as you are going to be more sociable." She reaches under the chair for her bag. "Speaking of which, I have something for you too, my king."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Oh?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She rummages for a moment and then stands to hand him a small bundle of cloth; "The samples I promised you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He places his empty plate on the table and takes them from her with intrigue; "I wasn't expecting these so soon."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She shrugs as she returns to her seat, "I was too worried about this one to sleep much, so I thought I would distract myself and cheer you up at the same time by making a start on the designs for your coat."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Smiling, he flips through the squares of rich fabric, admiring the many different colours of each one before handing them over to you; "Which one do you prefer, dearest?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You contemplate them for a moment and then pluck out one of the lighter pieces. "Perhaps this one?" You hold it up beside his face and he stays perfectly still as you compare the material with the various shades of his eyes. "Hmm.. a little dark."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You return it to the pile and choose another, a metallic blue so light that it almost looked white at first glance but then, as you moved, it suddenly shifted into all the hues of a winter waterfall. Lifting it to his cheek, you tilt his head slowly and watch as the cloth begins to reflect the exact same colours present in his pale gaze; "This one. It matches perfectly and you will look magnificent in it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Very well. I will defer to your good judgement in this instance, Caltariel." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>You give him a tender smile and then hand the cloth back to Serindiel, who studies the chosen shade for a moment before nodding to herself absentmindedly; "This will make a beautiful coat, I agree. Especially with the silver embroidery and fastenings."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She looks back at the king with a critical eye, already envisioning what it would look like on him; "I will start work on the cloth as soon as I return to my quarters. But by all estimates, I should have the finished garment ready for you before the log drawing festivities." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>He grins, happy at being allowed to indulge in his vanity for once without judgement; "There is no rush. But if you do happen to finish it, then I promise you that I shall wear it to the feasting with pride."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She beams in response, excited at the thought of the king wearing one of her creations in front of the whole kingdom; "Then I will be sure to have it done in time!" She returns the samples to her bag and then looks at you expectantly, "Before I go and make a start however, the king mentioned that you might like some assistance bathing?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You nod, grateful for the help; "If you wouldn't mind?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"Not at all. I brought along a few of your things for that very purpose actually. And seeing as the king also mentioned in his message that you would be staying here for a while, I brought you some more clothes to go with those I already left yesterday."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You turn your gaze on him with raised brow and he at least has the decency to look guilty, "It would seem you had everything planned out well in advance, my lord."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>He clears his throat awkwardly and rises to his feet to begin clearing away the breakfast tray and his letters; "I shall give you ladies some privacy..."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Stacking everything into a haphazard pile he rushes off towards the stairs and out of sight before you could question him any further.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"What was that about?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You turn back to Serindiel with a snort, "It would appear that the king likes to make decisions on my behalf without discussing it with me first. As I was only informed of his desire for me to remain here a few moments before you yourself arrived, it would seem that I am the last person to know of this plan."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She chuckles knowingly and stands to help you rise; "Don't be too hard on him. He is only worried about you and wants to look after you."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You smile as you carefully swing your legs out of bed, glad when the movement only caused you minimal discomfort; "I know. And that is the only reason why I am being so gracious about it." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>She reaches out, slipping her arms under yours to hoist you to your feet and you wince, swaying on the spot as your body begins to cramp at the change in position. Serindiel wraps her arm around your waist to take your weight and glances at you in concern; "Should I call the king back?"</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You shake your head quickly, not wanting to appear so helpless before him; "No, I can manage. The herbs are containing most of it."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You grit your teeth and lean on her for support as you slowly put one foot in front of the other and begin to walk towards the alcove that contained the bathing pool, glad of her patience when you paused a couple of times in the short journey to catch your breath. Still, not willing to be cowed, you persevere and eventually reach the enclave, allowing yourself a small smile at the achievement.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Leaning you against the wall, Serindiel erects a wide screen across the rocky opening to the bathing area, affording you some added privacy before turning to help you undress. Letting your long nightdress slip to the floor to pool about your feet, she then begins to gently unbind your torso of its dressings, careful not to hurt you, but unable to hide the concern and distress growing in her eyes as she uncovers more and more of your skin. You frown at her expression for a moment and then, unable to help yourself any longer, you take a deep breath and finally look down.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Where once your body had been smooth and unmarred, it was now broken and tainted by angry welts and swollen ridges of scar tissue that had been created when the king had swiftly knitted together your wounds. Where once your skin had been fair and creamy it was now bruised black and tinged with violet from your collarbone down to your navel, and all the way to your elbow on your left arm, giving you a sickly sheen due to the painful inflammation that accompanied this vast array of colour.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Stunned by your appearance, you lift your trembling fingers to trace the puckered skin that had been left behind when the arrow had been removed from your breast, exploring each bump and ridge of flesh with disbelief and feeling suddenly quite overwhelmed by it all.</p>
</div><div>
  <p>"It will heal."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>Serindiel's voice comes soft, almost as though she was trying to convince herself as well as you, and you look up to find her watching you anxiously. "I will gladly pay the cost regardless." </p>
</div><div>
  <p>You exhale a deep breath of resignation and then lift your chin proudly, your own words giving you the fortitude you needed to accept what had been done and come to terms with it; "I regret nothing. In fact, I am grateful. I fulfilled my duty and lived. Others have not been so fortunate in theirs."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>You push yourself away from the uneven rock of the wall without another moment's hesitation and she quickly moves to help you, her kind eyes filled with endless love as she supports you down the wide steps and into the coolness of the water; "Stop being so hard on yourself, my friend. And stay still while I go and get you a change of clothes and a towel."</p>
</div><div>
  <p>She bustles out to get her bag and you sink down into the pool as requested and close your eyes, allowing the water to support you and soothe you of your pain, both physical and spiritual. Taking deep breaths, you will your heart to slow, and the shock over your appearance to subside whilst examining the emotions now churning around inside your mind.</p>
</div><div><p>Despite what Serindiel might think, you were not overly concerned with the unsightliness of your injuries nor the possibility that the scars may never fully fade. You had known exactly what the risks would be when you had first enrolled in the army, and you had not been that vain to begin with anyway. Scars were a reminder of one's ability to survive life's many hardships, and you would be proud of yours for what they represented, not ashamed. </p><p>No, the thing that had truly upset you was that, upon seeing the exact nature of your wounds, you had realised fully just how much of a risk Thranduil had taken in healing them, and it suddenly made his reckless actions in the glade and his refusal to leave you behind seem almost insignificant by comparison. </p>
<p></p><div><p>You knew he had joined his spirit with yours. You had suspected it as soon as you had woken up and had been unable to sense him or feel his energy. It had been confirmed for you then when the athelas he had given you had eased your pain enough to allow you to finally find what you had been searching for coursing in your own veins instead; a vast, comforting presence you could still feel even now, residing in the deepest recesses of your wounded heart.</p></div><div><p>At first you had been grateful for what he had done, and a part of you still felt that way, but it was an emotion that was quickly becoming overshadowed by the anger and horror you felt of what his actions could have cost him by doing so.</p></div><div><p>As spiritual beings, elves relied more upon their auras than they did their physical forms. As well as a means of communication and bonding, it was the spirit that gave them such great mastery over their bodies in comparison to the other races of Middle-Earth, and elves permanently touched the energy of everything around them and were therefore constantly connected to it.</p></div><div><p>The actual joining of one's spirit was different however, and was usually considered as more of an intimate pastime; something that was shared by lovers either in the begetting of children or purely as an act of pleasure that complemented its physical counterpart. The only other time it would ever be used was in healing, and only as a last resort when the wound could not be helped by more practiced and traditional methods. It allowed for the easier transference of energy and strength between the elves involved and also alleviated the suffering of the one hurt by sharing it with the other. However, if the injured elf required more strength to heal than the one who was healing them possessed, or the torment of the victim was too great, then it would result in death for both of them.</p></div><div><p>Because of this, it was a method that was used sparingly and only with great caution, and usually with several healers present to negate the risks. Risks that he would have known only too well, but that he had taken nevertheless. And it shouldn't have been possible. </p></div><div><p>As ancient and powerful as he was, you still could not believe he had been strong enough to heal a mortal wound by himself and survive. And that was what bothered you now.</p></div><div><p>You were certain he almost hadn't. </p></div><div><p>The sound of the screen being pulled back into place makes you jump and you look up with watery vision to find Serindiel gazing at you with sudden concern.</p></div><div><p>"What's wrong?"</p></div><div><p>You wipe your eyes and give her a wan smile; "Nothing in particular. The last few days have just caught up with me and taken me by surprise, is all."</p></div><div><p>She places a towel and a change of clothes on the oak vanity beside the wall before approaching the edge of the pool armed with your soap and shampoo. She kneels down by the water and studies you intently; "You were never a good liar, my friend."</p></div><div><p>You sigh and shake your head. "I'm not lying, Seri. I was just thinking over everything that has happened and worrying myself about the king."</p></div><div><p>"Ah. And <em>now</em> we get to the real cause." She gestures for you to come closer and turn around so she could wash your hair, "He cares about you a lot."</p></div><div><p>You nod, having been left in no doubt now of his affection. "I know. As I do him."</p></div><div><p>She murmurs in agreement, untangling the lengths of silver in her hand until they come loose before continuing, her voice quiet so as to prevent him from overhearing; "Yes.. But I think in his case it is more than that."</p></div><div><p>Your hair slips from her fingers as you turn sideways to look at her; "How do you mean?"</p></div><div><p>She leans back on her knees for a moment, her eyes searching yours as she chooses her words carefully; "I think he has feelings for you."</p></div><div><p>When you don't respond she continues, wanting to clarify her meaning; "Of a romantic nature."</p></div><div><p>You gaze back at her in stunned silence for a minute longer and then burst out laughing, unable to help the sudden mirth you felt at the absurdity of her statement. "Don't be so ridiculous, Seri. You know his heart is bonded and is incapable of such things."</p></div><div><p>She sighs, grasping you gently by the shoulders and turning you around again so she could finish her shampooing; "Just because he is bonded it doesn't mean he is incapable of loving elsewhere. You didn't see how devastated he was yesterday. He could barely stand or lift his head. It was like his whole world had fallen apart, and I've truly never seen anyone look so broken in all my life."</p></div><div><p>Your heart aches at hearing of his suffering, but you still didn't understand how she could ever think there was anything romantic in his behaviour; "Seri, he gave everything he had to heal me. Of course he could barely stand or lift his head. He was exhausted and still is. And he's lost everyone he's ever cared about in one way or another, so no wonder he looked so devastated. He will surely have been thinking that history was repeating itself and I can't even imagine the unpleasant memories that it brought back for him. It would have been enough to break anyone."</p></div><div><p>"Yes, he said something similar himself last night."</p></div><div><p>You hum in satisfaction of being proven right; "Well then. Let's not make this into any more than it is."</p></div><div><p>She falls silent as she finishes helping you bathe, but you could tell by the expression on her face that she wasn't ready to let the subject slide just yet; and sure enough, once you were dry, dressed, and hair freshly brushed she decides to broach it again. "I know you do not believe me, sweet sister. But I know what I saw and I know what I heard. And if you took a second to stop being so blinded by your duty to him, you would see it too. He isn't exactly hiding it."</p></div><div><p>You sigh as she hangs your towel on one of the silver hooks embedded in the wall; "I love you, Seri. But I really do think you're reading far too much into things."</p></div><div><p>She shrugs as she slips her arm around your waist to support you again; "We will see."</p></div><div><p>You shake your head in utter bemusement of her as she leads you out of the alcove, glad to find the relaxing bath had eased your body and lessened your pain far more than you could have ever imagined. Overjoyed and relieved, you make your way back towards the bed with confident steps, but then pause when you hear voices coming from down below. "Is that Feren?"</p></div><div><p>Serindiel frowns in concentration as she listens along with you; "I believe so."</p></div><div><p>"Then let us go and greet him."</p></div><div><p>You change direction and make for the stairs instead and the high captain himself soon comes into view, stood before the fireplace with his king. </p></div><div><p>You call out to him happily and he pauses in mid-sentence, his kind face breaking into a wide smile when he sees you up and on your feet; "Well, you are a welcome sight indeed for these sorry eyes, my friend!"</p></div><div><p>You return his smile as Thranduil moves quickly to help you down the remainder of the steps, his face both surprised and concerned to see you exerting yourself again; "You should be resting, dear one."</p></div><div><p>You shake your head and lean into his side as Serindiel relinquishes you over to him; "I am done with resting, my king. Besides, the bath has worked wonders and I would sooner have the company now than be laying in bed."</p></div><div><p>You reach out for the captain when he approaches and pull him into a one-armed hug; "It is good to see you too, Feren. How are you?"</p></div><div><p>"Fully recovered and happy to see you on the way to being likewise." He gives you a heartfelt squeeze whilst trying to avoid embracing his king at the same time and fails spectacularly in his endeavour. "Sorry, my lord."</p></div><div><p>You chuckle at his sudden misfortune and Thranduil can't help but smile and roll his eyes at your childlike glee. "No harm done, Feren. I always welcome being embraced."</p></div><div><p>You giggle even harder and Feren clears his throat awkwardly, looking to spare himself from your teasing by changing the subject and gesturing towards the table; "I have the return of your weapons, my friend. We found your sword beneath the king's seat and your knives were recovered along with your daggers when we disposed of the orcs."</p></div><div><p>You take a deep breath to compose yourself and smile warmly; "Thank you, Feren. I would hate to have lost those."</p></div><div><p>He nods and gives you a wink, knowing how attached you were to them, "You're welcome. Although you are lucky we found them at all amongst all the carnage you and the king left behind."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil snorts as he helps you into a chair at the very same table and then strides towards the oak cabinet in the corner of the room for a decanter of wine. "It would have been far prettier if I'd have had both blades."</p></div><div><p>"And even more so if I hadn't had an arrow in my chest."</p></div><div><p>The king grins appreciatively at your words as he emerges with a bottle and four glasses; "Of that I have no doubt, dearest."</p></div><div><p>He seats himself beside you and gestures for Serindiel and Feren to do likewise before pouring each of you a cup of the rich Dorwinion vintage. "Do we have any idea on how they managed to surprise us so easily?"</p></div><div><p>Feren sighs, seeming suddenly troubled; "No, my lord. I spoke with each and every one of the watch and they have all said the very same thing; that there had been no sign of the orcs until they were already upon us. That is why we had no warning."</p></div><div><p>You frown in confusion, reliving the events just before the attack and wondering how that could be. You glance up at Feren to find a similar expression on his own fair face; "What exactly happened?"</p></div><div><p>He takes a sip of wine and regards you thoughtfully; "I'm not entirely sure, my friend. One moment everything was as it should be and the next, chaos. The horns alerted us to them only moments before they attacked, and they hit us from the north around three hundred strong." He shifts to get more comfortable before continuing; "We met them before they could get anywhere near the main gathering, and it was over pretty quickly after that. Of course, we did not realise that there was a second group engaging you and the king from the south before it was too late."</p></div><div><p>"No one was seriously injured?"</p></div><div><p>He shakes his head; "Apart from yourself, no. Just a few minor wounds here and there with Lord Ríanor being one of the worst."</p></div><div><p>"Lord Ríanor?"</p></div><div><p>Thranduil turns to look at you, "He's one of the better personalities at court. He generally deals with most of our trade negotiations, but is also an excellent swordsman when the need calls for it."</p></div><div><p>Feren nods in agreement; "They surprised him from behind while he was trying to get the children to safety, but luckily he had his blade with him and made them regret it. He is most efficient."</p></div><div><p>You knew who Ríanor was of course, but the king wasn't to know that; and you had only been expressing your surprise that he or any of the nobles had stayed around long enough to assist or become involved in the fighting. </p></div><div><p>You smile as you remember the handsome and charismatic ellon, glad to have his good character confirmed for you, and finding yourself relieved that he had not been seriously harmed.</p></div><div><p>"Why would they attack us when they were so heavily outnumbered?"</p></div><div><p>Feren turns his eyes on Serindiel, who now had a deep frown etched into her brow; "They were obviously desperate, starving and could smell the cookfires. Remnants of the battle up at Erebor, no doubt."</p></div><div><p>You chew your lip as you ponder everything he'd said, finding something not quite right about it at all. You gaze around the room as you search for an answer to the uneasy feeling that was settling in the pit of your stomach and your eyes eventually come to rest on the mantel and the strange object that lay on top of it.</p></div><div><p>Straining with the effort, you push yourself from your seat and Thranduil looks up at you in surprise; "Caltariel, what -?" He suddenly pauses, a surge of anxiety hitting him when he realises what had interested you, and he grabs your hand in alarm; "Don't.." </p></div><div><p>You turn back to look at him, seeing the worry in his eyes; "I <em>want</em> to see it."</p></div><div><p>He gazes at you in concern for a long moment, internally reprimanding himself for not keeping it hidden and out of sight, but on seeing that you would not be swayed he relents with a sigh and rises to help you.</p></div><div><p>You squeeze his fingers and shake your head to stop him; "I can manage, my lord."</p></div><div><p>Releasing him, you return your attention to the object and stagger over to get a closer look at it, unable to resist your morbid curiosity when given the opportunity to examine the source of all your pain.</p></div><div><p>Ignoring the conversation at the table and the king's watchful eyes, you reach out with trembling fingers to grasp the splintered ebony shaft and study it intently, your gaze passing over the six savage barbs that protruded from the arrowhead with a certain trepidation. </p></div><div><p>At the base of each of these hooks, a small yet deep groove was cast into the steel and you frown as you try to figure out its purpose, having never seen their like before. Turning slightly to see them better in the light of the small fire in the grate, you run your finger along one of the barbs and then, caught by a sudden impulse, you press down upon it with all the strength you could muster. Immediately, the hook begins to move under the pressure, retracting slowly into the slot until it finally locks in to place with a sharp click, leaving nothing behind but a smooth surface.</p></div><div><p>Intrigued, you quickly follow suit with the rest and return the wicked contraption to its original state, your feelings of unease only growing as it begins to take shape in your hands.</p></div><div><p>Clicking the last hook into place, you hold it out in front of you and gaze at the perfectly moulded arrowhead you now held, feeling nauseated by the barbaric cruelty of its invention and remembering vividly the unimaginable agony it had caused to you. "This was no random attack by starving orcs."</p></div><div><p>The room falls silent and you turn back to find them all looking at you curiously. "You said they attacked from the north, Feren?"</p></div><div><p>He nods and you raise a brow; "Then why not take our livestock or raid our crops? They have only minimal protection and the orcs would have had to pass by both to hit us from that direction."</p></div><div><p>They all frown, recognising the logic in your words but unable to find any other explanation. Sensing their confusion, you hold up the arrow for them to see and Thranduil's eyes widen when he sees the barbs had completely disappeared. "This is no typical orc shaft. It's forged steel and would have been extremely difficult and expensive to make. Not to mention that the design is far too intricate to have been crafted by the orcs themselves."</p></div><div><p>"What are you saying, Caltariel?"</p></div><div><p>You turn your focus on to the king; "I am saying my lord, that this was no mindless act of desperation. It was a carefully planned and organised suicide mission."</p></div><div><p>Feren leans forward the better to see you, his face entirely serious; "But to what end?"</p></div><div><p>"This arrow was not meant for me."</p><p>You thrust it hard against the uneven rock of the wall and the barbs explode outwards immediately on impact; "It was meant to assassinate a king."</p></div></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tawarwaith - Forest people. An elf who does not reside in Thranduil's halls.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The silence that greeted your words was deafening; accentuated further by the tense atmosphere that had immediately sprung up to pervade the room and set everyone's nerves firmly on edge.</p><p>It lingered on until it became almost palpable and then Feren manages to compose himself just enough to turn to Thranduil with an expression of utter dread; "Sauron?"</p><p>His voice comes out as a hoarse croak and he clears his throat quickly as the king exhales a deep breath and nods; "Yes. I did anticipate some form of retaliation after his defeat at the Mountain, but I did not expect it to come so swiftly."</p>
<p></p><div>
  <p>Before the fireplace, you begin to pace, replaying all the events of the past days over in your mind. "Sauron fears the king. He is well aware of his great strength and he has never once had victory against him even when the odds were massively in his own favour. He knows too that Thranduil still commands the largest standing army in all of Middle-Earth and that it poses the biggest threat to his ambitions. Had he won the Mountain, he surely would have come for us first, and we would have been surrounded on all sides; from Erebor, Gundabad <em>and</em> Dol Guldur, with no hope of ever escaping the fire and slaughter which he would have rained down upon us."</p>
</div><div><p>You feel sick to the core at the thought of what could have transpired if fate had not intervened. "He could never have dreamed that he would suffer such a crushing defeat, and his plans have all been unravelled, in no small part thanks to us. And now he is left vulnerable and will look to recover swiftly from this blow. However, he knows that when he does, he will still be faced with the same obstacle as before."</p><p>You pause in your pacing to toss the arrow towards the table, and it lands with a clatter upon the smooth surface of oak before rolling to a stop before them; "So what better way to remove that obstacle than when we least expect it, and with a poisoned shaft that no one had the power to remove except the king himself?"</p>
<p></p><div><p>Thranduil chews the inside of his cheek as he picks up the arrow to examine it properly for the first time, and you return to your agitated treading of the rug before the fireplace, unable to shake the uneasy feeling that something was not quite right.</p>
<p></p><div><p>It was as you turned to retrace your steps that your eyes fell on the rich tapestry hanging on the opposite wall; a detailed depiction of the Great Wood in its entirety, and a dim, uncomfortable thought suddenly occurs to you. "Feren? How many were on watch during the feast?"</p></div><div><p>Feren frowns, his eyes transfixed on the hooks now retracting under the king's nimble fingers; "A hundred. Double the usual amount."</p></div><div><p>You rub your arms, feeling suddenly cold despite the flames crackling merrily in the grate beside you; "And how many during the burial of the dead?"</p></div><div><p>"Thirty four. Some were given leave to grieve their loved ones."</p></div></div><div><p>All the remaining colour drains from your skin as the answer you searched for suddenly becomes obvious. "<em>That</em> is why we had no warning."</p></div><div><p>"What do you me- " He tears his gaze away from the arrow to glance up at you and instantly falls silent when he sees the look on your face.</p></div><div><p>You grasp the mantel to steady yourself against the anxiety forming in your chest and meet his eyes with obvious dread; "Feren, I want the watch at two hundred by the end of the day. And station extra scouts permanently around every outpost; do not leave a single gap anywhere along our borders. Take whatever you need from the infantry and the archers to make up the numbers, and reassign them until further notice. I want only the best fighters and those most loyal to the king chosen for this task."</p></div><div><p>The captain frowns in confusion, but to his great credit nods his assent without even questioning you once; "And the patrols?"</p></div><div><p>You shake your head quickly, "No. Leave those as they are. I don't want anyone to be aware that anything has changed within the watch, and I want every single guard ordered as such. I don't want any of them relaying their reassignment, numbers or their positioning to anyone except you, me or the king."</p></div><div><p>A bolt of agony bursts its way through your breast; no doubt brought on by your current state of distress, and you clutch at it desperately as you sway on the spot and pant for breath. </p></div><div><p>The arrow immediately clatters to the table as Thranduil throws himself from his seat to rush to your side in concern; "You need to come sit down and rest a moment, dear one."</p></div><div><p>He wraps his arms around your shoulders to support you, but you shrug him off, your horrified gaze still locked on the captain; "I am done resting!"</p><p>Thranduil raises a sharp brow in surprise of your uncharacteristic outburst, but you ignore him, almost beside yourself in panic; "I need to see Faelyn urgently.."</p>
<p></p><div><p>"Caltariel! <em>Enough</em>!"</p><p>Chest heaving, you glance up at Thranduil to see him gazing at you with an expression caught between anger and worry; "I need you to sit down right now or I will make you."</p></div></div><div><p>"My lord, <em>please</em>.." Your fingers twist into the thin cloth of his shirt as you turn to face him, desperately trying to make him understand; "Feren said the orcs that engaged them were at least three hundred strong, and <em>we</em> must have killed half that number ourselves. It would've been impossible for a host of that size to have made it through our defences unseen." </p></div><div><p>Your topaz eyes burn into his, filled with pleading; "They were already there."</p></div><div><p>The hard lines of his muscles tense and flex under your hands and he could do nothing more than stare at you in confusion; "But why would they have been there, Caltariel? It doesn't make any sense. They weren't to know that we would be feasting in the forest that night or the location of such. And even if they had, there would have been nowhere for them to hide and they still would have had to get past our watch at some point to be there. Even during the burial of the dead it is unlikely that a host of five hundred orcs could have made it through our lines unnoticed."</p></div><div><p>You growl in irritation and clutch him to you all the tighter; "You are mistaken. They knew we'd be feasting and they knew exactly where. Just as they knew of the relaxed positioning of the guard and the gaps left in our defences during the funeral rites. They knew because somebody had told them."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil's complexion turns to ash as soon as he begins to catch on to what you were suggesting, and he shakes his head in disbelief, his voice dropping to little more than a whisper; "That is not possible."</p></div><div><p>You gaze at him in frustration, wishing you could tell him otherwise; "No? Well, how did they find <em>us</em> so easily?"</p></div><div><p>His eyes search yours, desperately looking for a cure to the uneasy feeling that was beginning to turn his heart to ice; "What do you mean?"</p></div><div><p>You take a deep breath to try and maintain your patience long enough to explain; "You recall that you ordered your kingsguard not to accompany us when we took our walk in the forest? Feren said himself that even he did not know where we had gone until it was too late. And yet <em>they</em> knew exactly where to find us, even though we traversed no established path or trail through the woods. It would seem that someone had followed us and then relayed our location to the orcs. Instead of attacking us at the feast as they no doubt originally planned, they instead split their forces, sending just enough to keep the guard occupied while they came after us. We walked right into their hands. Literally."</p></div><div><p>You trail off as you see a war of emotions raging in his ageless eyes; anxiety, hurt, but most of all anger, and you knew that he recognised the truth in your words at last. You remove your fingers from their tight grip in his shirt and grasp his shoulders instead, wanting to impress upon him the gravity of the situation; "Sauron may have been behind the attempt on your life, my lord. But someone helped him. I am sure of it."</p></div><div><p>A gasp from the direction of the table brings your attention back to the others and you turn to see Feren and Serindiel both staring at you in wide-eyed horror and looking very much how you felt.</p></div><div><p>The tiny, copper haired elleth removes her fingers from their tightly pressed position on her lips and shakes her head in disbelief; "But who amongst the elves would do such a thing? Who would ever willingly aid the servant of Morgoth?"</p></div><div><p>You bite your lip as you contemplate her words a moment, the answer not too hard to find; "Someone who thinks they would benefit from the king's death. Someone with ambitions of power and yet also weak enough to believe false promises."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil stiffens against you and you look up at him, seeing the betrayal cloud the wintery eyes still fixed upon yours as he answers in your stead; "Someone from the court."</p></div><div><p>You nod and the room falls into silence as you all try to come to terms with the fact that one of your own kind could do so monstrous and unnatural a thing as to aid the lord of the black tower. It went against the very essence of an elf to serve evil willingly and it made you sick to your core to know that someone within these very halls had nearly cost you both your lives.</p></div><div><p>You shake your head at the thought and rub at your chest again as the stabbing pains that had inflicted you in your distress worsen and become much more severe.</p></div><div><p>An arm tightens suddenly around your waist and makes you jump; "Come and sit, dear one." </p></div><div><p>You nod again, too anxious to argue any longer, and allow the king to support you back into your chair without further protest. "Serindiel, would you be so kind as to bring the waterskin from the bedside table?"</p></div><div><p>"Of course."</p></div><div><p>She pushes herself to her feet and rushes off to do as he asks; returning only a few seconds later with the flask and her bag.</p></div><div><p>Thranduil hands you the skin in silence and you swallow a few mouthfuls just to appease him while he pours everyone a glass of wine. He slides the cups towards you and then downs his own in a single, long draught before returning to the fireplace and taking up your previous position of pacing the rug.</p></div><div><p>You watch his progress in concern for a moment before turning back to the captain, who was likewise watching his king with worry; "You'll do as I asked, Feren?"</p></div><div><p>He nods, truly looking at a loss for words; "Of course. Consider it done. I will also triple protection on the king."</p><p>You shake your head quickly; "No. Secrecy is paramount here. I don't want so much as an ant to be able to move in this kingdom without us knowing about it first. But at the same time I don't want that ant to know it is being watched, or it may never come out at all."</p>
<p></p><div><p>Feren murmurs his understanding and you look between both him and Serindiel with earnest; "If one or more of the nobles is behind this, I can guarantee that I will also become a target as I stand in the way of them getting to him." Thranduil glances your way sharply, an expression of pure horror on his pale face, but you disregard it for the moment; "So who apart from you two knows that I am alive and have been healed?"</p></div><div><p>Feren frowns; "The kingsguard, of course. But no one else as far as I'm aware." </p></div><div><p>"My parents know." You look to your best friend and she grimaces apologetically; "They were worried sick when they heard and desperate for news."</p></div><div><p>Your eyes soften slightly at her words; "And I am grateful for their affection. However, I need you to ask them to keep it to themselves as a matter of utmost importance. They are not to tell a soul. I don't want anyone to know that I am here or that I have survived my wounds. I can imagine it will be quite the surprise for someone, and I want to see who."</p></div><div><p>She nods and your gaze returns to Feren; "Brief the kingsguard of what has transpired. No one is to be allowed within the corridors to the king's rooms except yourselves and Faelyn, and then only come at night and be sure you're not followed. If anyone tries to approach they are to be told that the king is out of sorts and has requested not to be disturbed for the foreseeable future. Any urgent messages or things that require his attention are to be left with the guards or yourself. I want to know of anyone who tries to argue with these instructions." </p></div><div><p>"And what about food? Now their plan has failed, they may try to poison him."</p></div><div><p>You contemplate his words a moment having not thought of that possibility; "I will need you both to acquire cooking utensils and supplies for us daily. Things that are fresh and can not have been tampered with. We will still request food be brought from the kitchens so as not to arouse suspicion, but I will cook our meals here for the time being." You frown as you think of yet another avenue; "And post a permanent guard on the king's wine cellars without delay."</p></div><div><p>Feren nods and rises to his feet, his expression now one of grim determination despite his pallid complexion; "I will take care of your orders immediately and send the wood-elf to see you. I myself will return tonight when the halls are quiet."</p></div></div><div><p>Serindiel rises to follow suit; "I need to go and speak with my parents." She hugs you gently and then casts a worried glance at the tense lines of the king's back as he stares into the flames; "I will gather you what supplies I can and send them with Feren. It would not do to have us all creeping through the halls at night."</p></div><div><p>You nod, still trying to think of any other ways they could get to the king, "Thank you both."</p></div><div><p>Feren squeezes your uninjured shoulder gently, trying unsuccessfully to be reassuring; "Look after him, Arhestiel."</p></div><div><p>"Of course." </p></div><div><p>They both turn to leave and you watch them go, your anxiety already beginning to grow exponentially in their absence. You take a deep breath to control the trembling in your limbs and then return your focus to the king, who was still standing with his back to you and gazing into the flames, having not paid any attention to the rest of your conversation. </p></div><div><p>"Thranduil?"</p></div><div><p>He makes no move to answer you, lost as he was to his thoughts, and you sigh softly as you study the defeated set of his shoulders; knowing that there would be nothing you could say now that would comfort him from this betrayal.</p></div><div><p>Heartbroken at seeing him suffer, you push yourself to your feet again and approach him tentatively to lay your hand on the broad expanse of his back; treating him with all the caution you would an injured animal.</p></div><div><p>He flinches slightly beneath your touch and turns his head to look at you as you step up to his side, his expression of calm fury almost enough to take your breath; "How could I have been so <em>blind</em>?"</p></div><div><p>You slide your hand up to his shoulder and rub gently, trying to soothe him in any way possible; "Stop it."</p></div><div><p>His grip tightens on the mantel with such force that it sent his knuckles white in protest and you were sure it must be hurting him; "Tomorrow I will take a patrol into the forest and see if I can find the orc's camp. They may have left behind some clues."</p></div><div><p>You stare at him in outrage; "You will do no such thing! Someone out there wants you dead and I will not have you making yourself vulnerable, nor risk the culprit realising that we suspect something. No. You will stay in these rooms until I ascertain that there is no immediate threat to your life."</p></div><div><p>The lines of his jaw tense and his eyes darken immediately in response to your words, giving him a most wild and dangerous look. He straightens up to his full and considerable height and turns to face you, unable to believe you would dare speak to him in such a manner; "Careful, Caltariel. Do not mistake my affection for you as tolerance for insubordination."</p></div><div><p>You fold your arms in annoyance, refusing to be intimidated in light of the risk to his life. "Do not insult me by suggesting that I ever have or ever will. You could not name one who is more devoted to you than I. <em>Or</em> as respectful of your authority."</p></div><div><p>"And yet you would think to command your king?"</p></div><div><p>His velvet voice was perilously soft, betraying the foul temper that was already at breaking point, but rather than be afraid of him as you usually would, you feel your own rage and indignation rising up in response; "By the laws of this kingdom, when it comes to matters of <em>your</em> personal safety, <em>I</em> outrank you. So, yes. I think I <em>will</em> command my king. Especially when he suggests doing something as foolish as putting himself in the way of potential harm." You glare up at him with eyes of cold steel, daring him to challenge you; "However, if that displeases you, you can strip myself and Feren of our captaincies right this very moment and try us both for treason against you; because that is the only way you will ever be leaving my sight until I know that it is safe for you to do so."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil's nostrils flare and his eyes burn into your face like ice, but you plough on recklessly, all your pent up emotions from the past few days breaking free of their constraints to be directed entirely at the one you loved most; "And while we're on the subject; as much as I appreciate your friendship and return it fully and completely, I would say that it is not <em>I</em> who is confusing personal affection with my professional duty, but <em>you</em>, my lord."</p></div><div><p>His chest heaves with the exertion of not losing control and he chews on the inside of his cheek in an immense effort to bring himself back from the edge. "And how do you believe that <em>I</em> confuse the two, Arhestiel?" </p></div><div><p>You begin to pace before him in pure agitation, his return to naming you by rank not lost on you at all; "Let's see... Your reckless and irresponsible actions in the glade and then later in healing me would be a fine place to start, don't you think?"</p></div><div><p>He raises a single, dark brow over even darker eyes, his words spilling from his lips in a hiss of pure venom; "Should I have just left you to die, then?"</p></div><div><p>Your anger finally overwhelms you with all the force of a raging tempest, and you turn on him in fury; "For the sake of the kingdom? Yes! That is <em>exactly</em> what you should have done!"</p></div><div><p>He tenses as though you had slapped him, the hurt caused by your words and the total conviction in which you had said them cooling his hot temper more swiftly than a bucket of ice. He stares at you with wide eyes, an array of feelings churning through his entire being as he takes in the sight of you standing before him in nothing more than a simple nightgown and your lilac bedcoat, your sweet face burning with a wrath and hurt all of your own. </p></div><div><p>He knew he should be beyond furious with you for your insolence, and he was, but it was tempered now by the agonising heartbreak your statement had given to him. He shakes his silver head in defeat and turns away, unable to even bear looking at you any more. "Always you speak of duty. I wonder if there is any real love in you at all."</p></div><div><p>Your eyes fill with tears and you blink them away before they could humiliate you further; "Oh? And did you say that to my father too before he gave his life for you? Did you tell him that the love he felt for you in his duty was not real?"</p></div><div><p>Your voice finally breaks and Thranduil's self loathing comes crashing down on him in an instant. He curses himself silently for the words he had just uttered in his anger and hurt, wishing more than anything he could take them back, but knowing that the damage they had caused you now could never be forgiven.</p></div><div><p>His head bows and he appears to diminish before your very eyes, which only served to increase your own hurt. Not willing to let the matter rest, you step around him and force him to face you again; your fingers pulling aside the neck of your nightdress to bare some of the damage left behind by the ebony shaft. He stares in disbelief when he sees the extent of the bruising and the angry scar tissue that marred your chest, and you take a deep breath, feeling truly vulnerable as you gaze up into his horrified eyes. "Is this not real enough for you?" You reach out to take his hand before he could protest and press it firmly over your racing heart, "Or this?"</p></div><div><p>Despite your best efforts to contain them, your tears spill out from beneath your lashes and you swipe at them furiously with your sleeve; "You think I don't love you with everything that I have?"</p></div><div><p>Not knowing what to say, he stands with head bowed in broken silence, your crying causing him more pain than he thought his heart could bear.</p></div><div><p>You choke on a sob, unable to draw breath past the sorrowful constriction in your throat. "If dying was the price I had to pay for loving you for even a single day, then I would gladly have given it. I would have taken a thousand poisoned arrows for such a precious thing and would never have denied it being worth the cost. My only regret would have been leaving you. So do not ever confuse my devotion or my duty to protect you with insubordination, nor insult the sacrifices I would make to keep you from harm by convincing yourself that they mean nothing, as <em>that</em> is the real lie."</p></div><div><p>He sighs deeply in resignation, his remaining anger melting away to leave him feeling more exhausted and emotionally drained than he had ever felt in his life. He reaches out to frame your face in gentle hands, swiping away the wetness on your cheeks with his thumbs before the sight of it sent him mad; "I will not apologise for my actions, Caltariel. Nor will I ever regret them. That was the price of loving <em>you</em> and I gave it gladly and would do so a thousand times over, as I also can not deny the cost to be worth it."</p></div></div><div><p>You shake your head at his unwillingness to see reason; "And <em>that</em> is where <em>you</em> are confusing affection with duty, my lord. It can not continue."</p><p>His glacial eyes soften with a sorrow all of his own when he catches the meaning behind your words, and he chews on the inside of his cheek in frustration, unable to work out how he was expected to stop putting you before himself, when you were standing there before him, the embodiment of everything he had prayed for and longed for in his lonely, miserable existence. </p>
<p></p><div><p>He loved you hopelessly and without reservation and had done so ever since the moment you had walked into his study, all nerves and flushed cheeks; and nothing he could ever do would alter that now no matter how much you wished it otherwise. "Forgive me, Caltariel. But I will not change and there isn't anything in this life that could now convince me to do so."</p></div><div><p>You gaze up at him imploringly, needing him to see it from your point of view; "You must. As truly grateful as I am for everything you have done for me, you render me useless if you continue to place our friendship first and will not allow me to do my job. I can not be constantly on edge wondering if you are going to risk yourself for my sake. I am just a soldier. There are thousands of us.. but <em>you</em>... The kingdom needs you."</p></div><div><p>He lifts his hand from your cheek to lose it in the long strands of starlight hair that tumbled down the side of your neck, his fingertips warm on the shell of your ear; "And what if I need you?"</p></div><div><p>You draw a deep breath to answer and then pause, not really knowing how to respond to such a declaration, nor fully understanding what he meant by it. Before you could ask him however, a sharp knock comes from the direction of the door.</p></div><div><p>Thranduil looks back to you questioningly and you sigh at the untimely arrival of the one who's aid you needed; "That will be Faelyn."</p></div><div><p>"And who is he?"</p></div><div><p>You raise a brow, momentarily distracted by surprise; "You don't know him?"</p></div><div><p>He shakes his head and you continue with a frown; "He is one of the tawarwaith, my lord. And a very dear friend of mine, so do try to be pleasant."</p></div><div><p>"I'm always pleasa -"  A second knock cuts him off and you gaze at him in pointed silence, your expression entirely disbelieving and causing him to roll his eyes in response before calling to enter.</p></div><div><p>A whisper of soft footfalls sounds on the stone steps and the ellon himself swiftly comes into view, the gentle light glinting from his long, golden-chestnut hair as he gazes about him in open curiosity, his fair face alight with inquisitiveness. He spots you waiting for him and changes course to make his way over to you and Thranduil studies the elf with keen eyes as he approaches, having not often had the opportunity to be in the company of one of the many elusive forest dwellers who resided within his realm and finding himself with a deep curiosity all of his own.</p></div><div><p>The wood-elf's stature was tall; far too tall in fact to be considered Silvan, and Thranduil noted with surprise that the elf stood at almost an equal height with himself; a feat that few, if any, could match.</p></div><div><p>Beneath rustic attire, a muscular and lithe frame betrayed a great strength and agility that most would envy or take years to achieve, and his movement was both sure and graceful, giving him the appearance of gliding through his steps rather than walking. But what struck Thranduil the most about this unusual ellon was his eyes. </p></div><div><p>Rather than the typical browns and greys he usually encountered amongst the people who resided within his kingdom, this elf had eyes of the palest blue; more akin to those of his own than any he had yet seen outside of his house, and Thranduil realised at last why you had been so surprised of his ignorance. The elf was of his own kin.</p></div><div><p>"My king. It is an honour." Faelyn comes to a standstill before him and addresses him in a thick accent before bowing low. He then turns to you and repeats the gesture. "Captain. I heard you sustained a terrible injury. I trust you are recovering?"</p></div><div><p>"Indeed I am, thanks to the king." Your face breaks into the first smile you'd had in hours and you reach out to grasp arms with him; "It is good to see you, my friend. Thank you for coming."</p></div><div><p>He returns your smile and looks between the both of you apologetically; "Of course. Forgive me the delay. I was out beyond the river when I received your message and came as quickly as I could."</p></div><div><p>You wink at him knowingly, "I knew where you'd be and there is nothing to forgive. You came more quickly than I expected if truth be told."</p></div><div><p>The elf relaxes slightly, his expression then turning questioning; "And how may I be of service to my king?"</p></div><div><p>Not knowing the answer to that himself, Thranduil gestures towards the table for the strange elf to seat himself and retrieves another glass from the cabinet; "As it is the Arhestiel herself who has sent for you, I shall let her explain."</p></div><div><p>Returning to your own chair across the other side of the table, you wait for the king to join you before satisfying both of their curiosity; carefully explaining everything that had happened during the attack and since and then your recent discoveries regarding it. Beside you, Thranduil pours the wine and from the corner of your vision you can see him tense; the anger that had subsided somewhat since your disagreement soon becoming visible in his bearing again.</p></div><div><p>Across from you, Faelyn listens to everything you had to say in growing astonishment, his silvery eyes widening with every word you utter. He looks between both you and the king as you finish your tale and shakes his head in disbelief. "We all heard about the attack, of course. And my brothers and I have suspected that the necromancer was come again for some time. The sickness in the forest and the spiders... It seemed to us like they could only ever have had one source. But to think that one of our kind would ever aid him willingly.. and to harm the king no less.." Face pale, he shakes his head again and takes a sip of wine to ease the trembling in his fingers before looking back at you; "Tell me what I can do to help."</p></div><div><p>You sigh gratefully, glad that he was willing to assist you as you'd hoped; "No one knows these lands like you do. So I was hoping you might be able to tell us where the orcs could have concealed themselves, as they may have left behind some clues."</p></div><div><p>Faelyn nods earnestly, "Of course. Do you have a map of the forest?"</p></div><div><p>Thranduil rises to his feet and strides towards the handsome bookcase in the corner of the room, his eyes searching the shelves for a moment before plucking out a large folded piece of parchment from between a stack of scrolls. He returns it to the table and moves aside his wine glass to open it out.</p></div><div><p>Faelyn stands to get a better look at it, admiring the rich detailing. "Where exactly was the attack?"</p></div><div><p>Thranduil presses his fingernail to a point just southwest of his halls; "According to Feren, the first host arrived here, however a second group then engaged the Arhestiel and myself <em>here</em>.." He slides his finger further south and the wood-elf frowns in thought.</p></div><div><p>"So we are looking for somewhere extremely close by.."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil nods, "Yes. But also somewhere inside our last lines of defence which were <em>here</em>.." He points them out and Faelyn studies the map carefully.</p></div><div><p>"How many orcs?"</p></div><div><p>"Five hundred."</p></div><div><p>The elf raises a brow in quiet surprise; "The only place I can think of that could house and conceal such a large number would be here." He points to a place on the map almost central to the two areas of attack; "There is a cavern there that they could have used, but its entrance is almost impossible to find and very few would know of it."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil chews his cheek thoughtfully; "Someone obviously did."</p></div><div><p>You murmur in agreement, "Faelyn, would you and your brothers be able to scout this area and see if they have left anything behind?"</p></div><div><p>The ellon nods without hesitation; "Consider it done. We shall go this very night and see what is to be found. However, if I might make a suggestion, my king?"</p></div><div><p>"Of course."</p></div><div><p>He leans forward the better to see you both, "Set a watch on the nobles. If you believe it is one of them that is behind this atrocity, then their plan has failed and they will no doubt be plotting other ways to achieve their aim. It would benefit you to know where they go, what they do and whom they speak to."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil takes a sip of his drink and sighs; "I would like nothing more than to do so, but if we alert the culprit to the fact that we suspect any treachery then we ruin any hope of catching them. And if I were to set guards on each of them it would be sure to arouse suspicion."</p></div><div><p>Faelyn shakes his head quickly; "Not if <em>we</em> were to do it for you. My brothers and I could walk beside them in bright sunlight without them ever realising we were there."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil raises a brow, suddenly curious to know what skills that this unusual elf and his brothers possessed to be able to do such a thing; "And why would you go to such great lengths for my sake?"</p></div><div><p>The wood-elf frowns; "I may not live in your halls my lord, but you are still my king. And I would do whatever I could to aid both yourself and protect this realm from any traitor who sought to tear it apart. You gave us the peace and plenty to live as we would wish and it is not something we forget easily, unlike your nobles."</p></div><div><p>Despite himself, Thranduil's lips shift into the ghost of a smile and he regards the other ellon with even greater curiosity, "And yet you yourself are more noble than any of them."</p></div><div><p>Faelyn laughs suddenly, the sound lilting and pleasant; "Ahh I see the rumours are true. Nothing much gets past you does it, my lord?"</p></div><div><p>Thranduil hums in agreement; "I couldn't help but notice the similarities, and now I feel most ashamed that I was not aware that any of my great grandsire's house still resided within this realm and must beg your forgiveness."</p></div><div><p>Faelyn's pale eyes shine with warmth and the resemblance becomes even more uncanny; "There is nothing to forgive, my lord. We keep to ourselves and do not seek your favour because of distant relations long past; or ask for anything other than to live peacefully amongst the trees as we always have done. But if you ever had a desire for a family reunion of sorts, then you would find many of us residing here and would, of course, be gladly welcomed amongst us."</p></div><div><p>You lean into Thranduil's side conspiratorially; "Do not listen to him, my lord. It is a trap. Faelyn's parties are almost as notorious as your own. He brews a redcurrant wine that would be sure to leave you regretting your very existence come the next morning."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil chuckles and Faelyn grins unashamed; "The Arhestiel speaks false. She is still alive, as you can see."</p></div><div><p>"Barely."</p></div><div><p>The wood-elf lets his face fall into an expression of outrage and indignation; "But on this occasion it isn't my doing!"</p></div><div><p>You snort; "No, but on the other occasion I did regret my very existence. Not just the following morning, but for several days."</p></div><div><p>You all succumb to laughter again, and for just a moment your heart felt lighter and less shackled by the anxiety that had gripped you over these past hours, and you could almost forget that someone outside the king's very door was seeking to destroy everything you loved and held dear.</p></div><div><p>The thought sobers you enough to compose yourself as Faelyn takes a deep breath to do likewise; "Well, if you ever want to see the truth for yourself, you are most welcome, my lord. And bring the Arhestiel with you if you want to be truly entertained."</p></div><div><p>You glare at him but Thranduil smiles, grateful for the momentary distraction, "I believe I may take you up on that gracious offer when it is safe to do so."</p></div><div><p>Faelyn nods and rises to his feet, "On that note then, it is almost sunset, and if I am to scout the cavern before any possible clues are removed, then I need to go and speak with my brothers urgently." He turns to the king as he rises likewise; "Rest assured, my lord.. If there is anything to find, we shall find it. And don't concern yourselves with the doings of the nobles. If they so much as walk in a manner that seems suspicious then you will hear of it a minute later. On my life, they won't get within an inch of you."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil holds out his hand towards the ellon, beyond moved and thankful for his help; "I can not begin to express my gratitude, Faelyn. And anything I can ever offer you in return, you have but to name it and I will see it done."</p></div><div><p>The wood-elf smiles warmly as he grasps arms with the king; "Don't even mention it, my lord. Your kindness is a credit to you, but all that I ask is that you stay alive and share a barrel with me when this is over." He turns to you and takes your arm likewise; "You can trust us to get this done. We will act discreetly and only report to you on a night unless it is urgent."</p></div><div><p>You nod and pull the towering elf into a swift embrace; "Thank you, my friend. For everything."</p></div><div><p>Faelyn gives you a gentle squeeze in reponse and then bows to his king before taking his leave, promising to give Feren any news regarding the cavern in the meantime. You watch him leave and then sink back into your chair as the door clicks behind him, feeling much more at ease to know he and his brothers would be out there helping you to keep Thranduil from harm.</p></div><div><p>"Well, that was most interesting."</p></div><div><p>You smile up at him as he pours himself another drink. "He's an intriguing character for sure, but he is good and he is true. I will rest much better knowing that he is aiding us."</p></div><div><p>Thranduil nods, his eyes roaming your face before falling to the bare skin just visible above the cut of your nightgown, his gaze lingering on the discoloration of your flesh with unease. "I need to make a poultice and redress your wounds."</p></div><div><p>You wave his words away with a flick of your hand; "You do not have to trouble yourself, my lord. The herbal water is good enough to contain any discomfort."</p></div><div><p>He sighs as he strides across the room and opens a cabinet to withdraw a small cooking pot; "If you are uncomfortable with me applying the herbs for you, then you can do it yourself, but it still needs to be done."</p></div><div><p>You groan in defeat, not wishing to argue with him any more; "I'd say it's a little late to be bashful now."</p></div><div><p>He murmurs in agreement, emerging with a handful of jars that he eyes thoughtfully before sorting out the ones he required. Once satisfied that he had everything he needed, he fills the cauldron with fresh water and hangs it over the flames to boil.</p></div><div><p>Feeling awkward after your earlier disagreement with him, you sit in silence and watch him work, unable to stop yourself from openly admiring him while he was so otherwise distracted by his remedies.</p></div><div><p>The long strands of his white hair tumble about his shoulders as he moves to and fro around the room, and you gaze at them in fascination for a moment, entertaining yourself in imagining what it would be like to run your fingers through their silky lengths. You flush at the thought and then follow the path of them downwards, taking in the shape of him that was clearly visible through the thin cloth of his shirt and the snug legging pants that he always wore, your eyes lingering on every tense and flex of his muscles as he shifted.</p></div><div><p>"If you keep looking at me that way, I may actually blush."</p></div><div><p>You tear yourself from your inappropriate daydreams to find him watching you with the smallest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips and your face burns scarlet. "I wasn't looking. I was just thinking."</p></div><div><p>His cheeks dimple in amusement as he unearths his pestle and mortar; "Hmm.. about <em>what</em> I wonder.."</p></div><div><p>You glare at him, truly embarrassed at being caught, but finding no way to escape his incessant teasing other than by playing along; "So it is acceptable for you to admire me, but not for me to do the same? That seems highly unfair."</p></div><div><p>He grins in satisfaction at hearing you admit your fascination with him. "I never said it was unacceptable. I am merely expressing my disappointment that you did not give me warning so that I could pose and showcase myself at my best angle."</p></div><div><p>You snort in both exasperation and mirth, "Now I am curious as to know which exactly <em>is</em> your best angle?"</p></div><div><p>He winks, his pale eyes filled with mischief and ill intent; "Keep looking at me in that way and I will not be able to resist showing you, Caltariel."</p></div><div><p>You shake your head, rendered temporarily speechless by his statement and the implied meaning it contained. "How do you still insist on teasing me at a time like this?"</p></div><div><p>He shrugs, completely unconcerned by your gentle reprimand, "Because, dear one, if I do not distract myself away from the situation, then I shall be tempted to do something...<em>foolish</em>...as you so eloquently put it."</p></div><div><p>"Such as?"</p></div><div><p>He drops a few herbs into the water that was beginning to simmer on the hearth; "Such as gutting the entire court."</p></div><div><p>He casts aside his jars and returns to your side, his eyes softening as he kneels down before you and lifts his hand to your resplendent cheek; "Besides, you are the best sort of distraction, and one that I very much need right now."</p></div><div><p>He rubs your skin affectionately, and without giving you time to become even more embarrassed, he gestures towards your chest; "May I?"</p></div><div><p>You glance down at yourself and then nod, thinking it wouldn't be possible for you to feel any more awkward even if you were completely naked. "Just try not to enjoy it too much. I am in pain, after all."</p></div><div><p>He smiles at your renewed attempts to lighten his mood despite your obvious insecurity and stands to help you remove your bedcoat; "I can make you no promises in that regard either, dear one. After all, it isn't every day that I get to have such a beautiful elleth partially naked in my chambers."</p></div><div><p>You breathe out a long suffering sigh as you shrug your arms out of the sleeves of your nightdress; "Then I will be sorry to disappoint you when you discover there is little of beauty left, my lord."</p></div><div><p>He glances up at you in surprise, his heart breaking when he sees you examining your own shoulder and the bruising that covered it with clear apprehension. "Such nonsense. There is nothing in existence that could diminish your loveliness in any way and I will not have you thinking otherwise."</p></div><div><p>You lean forward against him as he begins to ease the thin material over your back and down towards your hips, his flawless face only inches from your own as he works; "I was not complaining. Despite my earlier words, I <em>am</em> grateful to still be here with you and will gladly pay any cost deemed necessary to have it be so."</p></div><div><p>Settling the nightdress down by your waist he leans closer to press a swift kiss to your temple; "Stop being so melodramatic, my love."</p></div><div><p>You raise a brow, "That's rather hypocritical of you. Considering you are the most melodramatic person I have ever known."</p></div><div><p>He chuckles as he brushes your hair over your shoulder and then eases you back into the chair so he could examine you; and you sit unmoving before him, bare chested and vulnerable with your cheeks burning with embarrassment as he finally pulls back to look you over for the first time since he'd healed you.</p></div><div><p>His smile falters as soon as the rest of your body comes into view and the expression on his face falls into one of disbelief and burning anger when he sees the extent of your continued suffering.</p></div><div><p>Aghast, his eyes pass over the bruising that covered your entire torso and then linger on the swollen scar tissue that had been left behind by your wounds; his heart near breaking when he realises that even his great strength had not been enough to heal you completely. He shakes his head, understanding now why you had still endured such discomfort, and suddenly feels even more ashamed of his earlier disgraceful attitude towards you.</p></div><div><p>Filled with sorrow, he grabs your bed coat and gently wraps it back around your shoulders to protect your dignity as much as possible; "Forgive me, Caltariel."</p></div><div><p>"For what, my king?"</p></div><div><p>He pulls your dressing gown closed to keep you warm, his shame palpable. "For neglecting you in your pain and treating you in a manner earlier which you did not deserve. I was angry and not thinking clearly and I would take back that which I said to you. It was most unworthy and I sorely regret it."</p><p>He leans back to meet your eyes, his own filled with remorse; "I did not ever mean to suggest that you were being disrespectful by trying to keep me safe, <em>or</em> that the care that I know without doubt you have for me is in any way diminshed simply because it is borne of duty. That was ill spoken of me and I apologise."</p>
<p></p><div><p>Feeling less uncomfortable now that you were safely covered, you reach out to brush the backs of your fingers across his cheek to comfort him; "I too am sorry. I did not mean to appear so ungrateful. And I was not in any way trying to undermine your authority, nor would I ever. I just panicked at the thought of you being in any danger. However, you are mistaken in believing that the care I have for you is all borne of duty. It is not. But, as I told you once before, that duty to you as my king must always come first, despite anything else I may feel for you on a personal level. Without you, the kingdom will sunder and surely fall into chaos. And now that the foul deceiver has announced his return, your safety is more imperative than ever before, and I need you to remember that before making any further rash decisions."</p></div><div><p>He sighs and nods his assent; "Very well. I will do as you ask. However, I still refuse to apologise for or regret my actions in the glade or thereafter. You see, you are also mistaken. To me, you are not just a soldier and nor are there thousands of you. There is only one of you. And I will always do everything within my power to make sure it remains that way, no matter the cost and whether you will it or no." </p></div><div><p>He kisses your palm softly and then rises to his feet with a groan, looking wearier than you had ever seen him; "I do not have the strength left in me to endure another parting, Caltariel. Especially not ours. So it would seem that your survival is as imperative to this kingdom as my own, as without you, I too will fall."</p></div><p> </p></div></div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys sorry for the delay. Tricky chapter to write but I got there in the end. There's a translation of the elvish used in this instalment in the notes at the end of the chapter. Stay safe everyone :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Stoking the flames in the grate, Thranduil checks on the progress of the herbs, your lack of reaction speaking volumes to him and leaving him feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable; "Have I upset you?"</p><p>"No, my lord."</p><p>He returns the poker to the hook beside the mantel and retrieves his jars to add a few more sprigs and leaves to the pungent concoction bubbling away in the pot. "Then will you please tell me whatever it is that you are thinking before I go mad?"</p><p>You pause briefly in your tracing of the grain in the table top to look up at him, entirely at war with yourself. "I don't really know what to think anymore, my king."</p><p>"My name is Thranduil."</p><p>You nod absentmindedly, your fingertips continuing with their scrolling of the oak; "Yes, my lord. I am aware."</p><p>He shakes his head in exasperation as he returns his pots to the cabinet and then searches out another bottle of wine; "You know Caltariel, I have met countless people over the course of my life, and yet I have never once encountered one in all those long years who confounds me nearly as much as you do." He straightens up with a rich vintage in hand, thinking to drown himself in it; "You are the one person in all the world I am desperate to know and yet the one who is least forthcoming in that endeavour. And just as I think you are starting to open up a little, you immediately withdraw. I find it extremely vexing."</p><p>You sigh, wishing he would just leave you to brood in peace; "I will not apologise or beg your forgiveness for simply being who I am, my lord."</p><p>He frowns as he checks the dusty bottle carefully for any sign of tampering; "That is not what I meant dear one, and you know it. I do not think I could have made it any more obvious how much I favour you. I was merely expressing a wish that you would talk with me freely, is all."</p><p>Reisgned to the fact he was determined to press you further, you abandon your idle tracing to give him your full attention. "And have us argue again? I have neither the strength nor the desire to do so, my lord."</p><p>Satisfied the wine had not been sabotaged he pulls the cork and returns to the table; "Then let us not argue. I am sure we can both manage a civilised conversation about what is troubling you should we make the effort."</p><p>You rub at the dull ache forming in your temples and sigh; "I do not know what it is that you wish for me to say that I have not already said. We are obviously never going to agree on the subject of your wellbeing, so it would seem rather pointless for me to try and convince you to see things from my perspective for once."</p><p>He raises a single brow as he decants the ruby liquid into a cut, crystal jug; "I did warn you once before that you would have to fight long and hard to beat me in a battle of wills, dearest. Although you did claim a resounding victory earlier, I will admit."</p><p>You gaze up at him hopelessly, the pain of that disagreement still raw in your heart; "Then why did it feel very much like losing?"</p><p>He hands you a drink, surprised by the depth of sadness in your soft voice; "You are still angry with me for my actions regarding <em>your</em> wellbeing then?"</p><p>You groan quietly and relent in the face of his continued probing into your feelings; "That is not what I meant at all. And I am not angry, Thranduil. I am conflicted and torn. As usual."</p><p>"How so?"</p><p>Fastening the clasp on your bedcoat to keep it firmly closed, you push yourself to your feet to pace before the table, too agitated to sit still any longer no matter what he had commanded you. "I am torn because I do not know how to serve you.."</p><p>He sinks into a chair with his cup and crosses his long legs as he regards you with obvious confusion and concern. "Of course you do, dear one."</p><p>You pause in your stalking of the sandstone floor to look back at him; "Do I? I think not. You see, despite your regular criticism of my flaws, you are just as elusive with what is in your mind and heart as I am, and I don't actually know what it is you want from me. In fact, I have often wondered if you know yourself."</p><p>He pauses in mid-sip, left stunned by your habit of getting right to the point whenever pressured and unable to disguise the guilt he felt when he recognises a certain truth in your words. He opens his mouth and then closes it again with a frown, not really knowing what to say or how to respond to such an accusation.</p><p>Eyes downcast, he avoids your knowing gaze and remains silent, his false sense of pride mocking him for constantly being too cowardly to offer you his heart in return for yours.</p><p>When he remains mute you continue, determined to get some clarification from him now that he had forced you to share your thoughts; "Since the day we met, you have made demand after demand, all of which contradict each other and place me in impossible situations from which I can only ever fail you or disappoint you. I even explained this to you at this festivities and told you how frustrated it made me feel, but you are still doing the same even now and I can not for the life of me understand why."</p><p>You continue with your pacing, breathing deeply to remain calm and keep your tone gentle; not wanting to hurt him or provoke his anger, but rather explain yourself to him in the hope that he would fully understand just how perplexing his behaviour seemed to you; "As my king, you require that I fulfill the duties that I have been charged with, and yet at the same time you will not allow me to do so because of the friendship you also desire of me. I am unable to reconcile the two Thranduil, no matter how hard I try, and your own words and actions only further add to the confusion."</p><p>He moves to interrupt you, but you silence him with a hand, needing to finish getting everything off your chest now that you had started. "Whenever I err towards professionalism you accuse me of being too wrapped up in my duty and beg me not to treat you so deferentially, but when I shift towards friendship and familiarity instead, you put me back in my place by reminding me of your authority. I can not hope to keep up with your fluctuating moods and desires, and then you wonder why I withdraw?"</p><p>You gaze at him in earnest, pleading with him to try and understand your frustration; "What am I to do, Thranduil? As someone who is wholly devoted to you, am I to just accept that you will put yourself and the kingdom in jeopardy for my sake? I can not. I will never accept that, nor can I abide by the words you just said to me; that you will fall without me. I would rather die than be the cause of your undoing, or become such a weakness to you; and I can not allow you to place so much importance on me or any one person when there are thousands outside of these doors relying on your power and protection."</p><p>You rub at your temples again, the dull throbbing intensifying with your stress; "As you are determined to render me useless in my role then, the only logical option would be to resign my position as both your shield and as Arhestiel due to a conflict of interest and remain by your side solely as your friend should you still wish for it."</p><p>A stab of deepest hurt darkens the aquamarine of his eyes and you ache to see it; having not meant to wound him in any way; "But that is pointless too, is it not? For if I were to give up my position and simply be your friend, my duty towards you would largely remain unchanged and I would still be the first to pick up a sword and fight to protect you with everything that I had, and you know that. Just as I now know that you would still put yourself at risk for me in return. You always have me cornered with no way out and it infuriates me beyond belief."</p><p>His fair face falls and you sigh, your heart clenching painfully in your chest when you see the utter defeat in his bearing. Taking pity, you return to his side at the table and reach out for him, the backs of your fingers tracing the smooth line of his jaw to console him; "I would do anything for you. Anything at all. But I need you to tell me what that is Thranduil, because I surely do not know anymore."</p><p>Lost for words, he surrenders to your gentle touch, craving it now more than ever, and you gladly oblige him, your skin warm and soft against his cheek; "Tell me what it is you need."</p><p>He presses his face into your hip, having an internal battle with his own emotions and the fear of sharing them with anyone; "You don't understand .." He breaks off, not even knowing where to begin in explaining himself and desperately trying to find the words. When they would not come, he reluctantly tears himself from your gentle affections with a frustrated growl and rises to his feet.</p><p>You watch sadly as he stalks away from you and strides towards the fireplace; "And I never will unless you tell me."</p><p>Head bowed, he gazes into the flames in silence, cursing himself for making you feel in such a way yet again, and seeing clearly why his conduct would confuse you when, if he was being honest with himself, it confused him just the same.</p><p>You had been right. He didn't know what he wanted. And if he couldn't work it out for himself, how were you ever meant to know?</p><p>With everything that had happened in such a short space of time, he had not yet had the opportunity to examine his true feelings regarding you, and it was that lack of reconciliation which was partly to blame for his constantly shifting moods and strange behaviour towards you, and he knew he would have to deal with it soon lest he drive you away from him for good.</p><p>He sighs deeply, still unable to deny the one thing his thoughts always led him back to. The one thing he was sure of. And that was the fact that he had never felt like this around anyone in his life. He just needed to figure out what that meant before daring to speak of it. If he could ever find the courage, that is.<br/>
<br/>
Despite his moment of wine-induced bravery in the glade, he doubted now whether he had the boldness to attempt such a thing again, fearing to lose you in an entirely different way should he do so. And the stronger his new feelings became, so did his vulnerability; growing beside this affection like a poison, choking him, preventing him from reaching out to grasp that which had been missing from his life for so long.</p><p>He chews his cheek with the quandary he now faced, with all paths seeming to end in you walking away from him, a notion he just couldn't bear to entertain and which tore his already wounded soul just to think about. </p><p>But still, he had to give you some sort of explanation for his behaviour. You deserved that much at least, and he owed it to you to offer what little of his heart remained after making so many demands of yours. And the only way he could start doing that was by swallowing his fear and telling the truth. <br/>
<br/>
"I wished for you."</p><p>You tear your eyes from your glass and bring them to rest on the broad expanse of his back, his simple statement cutting you like a hot knife through butter and making your chest constrict with emotion.</p><p>His nerve almost fails him when he feels your gaze on him, something he usually welcomed and craved, but now only served to make him feel even more exposed; "I have lost everyone, Caltariel. Every single person I have ever held dear is gone except for my son, and now he too has abandoned me in my folly because I could not bear to open my heart again, even to him."<br/>
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He grips at the mantel and shakes his head at his own foolishness; "Whoever said it was better to have loved and lost has obviously never experienced it, and I was so wrapped up in my grief that I shut myself away; trying not to feel, trying not to think, just wanting to make it through each day without drowning in all the memories of everything that had been taken from me. I felt so alone, but I told myself that it was better that way. That anything was preferable to experiencing that kind of immortal agony ever again, as I knew without a doubt that I would not survive it if I did."</p><p>He swallows hard to compose himself, his eyes fixed upon the dancing patterns in the flames for comfort; "I was so used to being detached that it became second nature to me, and I almost convinced myself that I did not need anyone, that I was content in my isolation; but it was all a lie. When the monotony of the day was done and I was left to my own company, my solitude would come crashing in on me, choking me until I felt sure I would suffocate from it. I barely slept, barely ate and found solace instead at the bottom of a bottle. Or rather, several bottles."</p><p>His knuckles tighten on the carved oak of the beam above the hearth as he relives the memories of those cold, empty nights; "It was in my many drunken stupors that I found the most clarity, and I prayed endlessly for someone who could save me from myself and everything that I had become; someone who would take pity and see beneath the lost and miserable creature that I am and stand by me regardless. But I thought it nothing more than a fanciful dream, as I truly did not believe such a person could exist for me any more..</p><p>...But you do."</p><p>His velvet voice cracks with emotion, breaking your heart along with it, and you blink back the hot tears threatening to spill out from beneath your lashes as you begin to understand the depth of his pain.</p><p>He takes a trembling breath to steady himself before continuing, wallowing in his thoughts and oblivious to the effect his words were inspiring in you; "Nothing could have prepared me for the moment you came charging into my life, with all your nerves and flushed cheeks." A tender smile ghosts his lips as he remembers the scene; "A Sindar noble I had never encountered, and serving in my own army no less. I was beyond curious, and to say I was also shocked would be an understatement. Especially when you told me who you were."</p><p>He shakes his head at the wonder of it and bends gracefully to throw another log into the dwindling fire; "The daughter of the best friend I'd ever had, residing within my very halls all this time without my knowledge. It almost defied belief, but there you were; kind, affectionate, intelligent and my equal in every regard. The pure embodiment of everything I had longed for in my solitude."</p><p>He straightens up again, brushing his fingers clean against his thigh before reaching for the poker; "You are more like your father than you probably realise, and it was certainly that which enabled me to trust you and bring you into my confidence so quickly. However, it was your own attributes that made me truly attached; such as your uncanny ability to see right through my many walls, and to prevent me from falling back into old habits of despair and self-loathing. The way you spoke to me with such warmth and compassion during our first real conversation is something that I could never forget, and it certainly had a marked impact on me. I knew then that I had to do everything within my power to keep you by my side, and you have become more important to me than you could ever possibly imagine. A rock amidst a storm, if you will. And one I am gratefully clinging to."</p><p>He stokes the fire, the flames dancing in the pale oceans of his eyes; "Meeting you was the first time in so long that I had experienced any semblance of peace or genuine happiness; the first time I didn't feel so alone, and you have inspired emotions in me that I thought I could never know again. And that is the reason why I behave the way I do. I am so used to being alone and wishing for that kind of intimacy in my life that I do not know how to act now that I have it. I never thought it would happen and have therefore forgotten exactly how to be close to anyone. And I am so afraid, Caltariel."</p><p>You wipe your streaming eyes on the sleeve of your bed coat, your heart filled with so much love for him you questioned how it could ever contain it. You take a deep breath to calm its frantic pounding and control the tremble in your voice; "What are you afraid of, Thranduil?"</p><p>He contemplates your query for a long moment before finally answering, his vulnerability almost palpable; "I am afraid of everything when it comes to you, dear one. But most of all I am afraid of losing you. And that is why I will not apologise for my actions in the glade or thereafter. You have stolen what is left of this foolish, crippled heart, and if anything were to happen to you now I could not bear it. I could never suffer through that kind of grief ever again even for the sake of a kingdom, and no one has the right to expect otherwise of me. Not even you, my love. I have endured enough."</p><p>Head bowed, he trails off quietly and you could do no more than gaze at him in silence, your emotions a churning ocean that you could never hope to make sense of in that moment, if ever. All that you knew was that you never wanted him to experience that kind of pain ever again and you would do anything in your power to prevent it; and with that thought, you push yourself to your feet, unable to bear his sorrow or the broken demeanour in which he now held himself any longer.</p><p>Stepping up behind him with silent footsteps, you reach out to wrap your arms around his slender waist and press your face into the soft hair that tumbled down his back like a silver waterfall; "Forgive me.."<br/>
<br/>
He straightens up with a sigh when he hears the sadness in your voice and turns in your gentle embrace to face you so he could hold you in return; "There is nothing to forgive." </p><p>He buries his nose into the top of your head as you settle in against his chest, inhaling the soft, floral scent of your shampoo and finding his entire being relaxing into your arms; "In my eagerness for your companionship I have repeatedly made you feel in a way that I never intended and placed so many unfair demands upon you without ever giving you any sort of explanation. The heavens only know what you must think of me..."</p><p>"Stop it.." You lift your cheek from his shoulder to press your lips to his jaw; "I think nothing but the best of you, as I always have and always will."</p><p>He exhales deeply in relief, his warm breath mussing the long tresses that fell at your neck, and he tightens his hold on you as though afraid you'd disappear if he should let go for even a second; "There is simply no judgement to ever be found in you, is there?"</p><p>You shake your head into the thin silk of his shirt; "When it comes to you? Never. I find I am rather biased, you see."</p><p>"And you have no idea how much that means to me." He brushes your hair back over your shoulders and then lifts your chin with gentle fingertips so he could look upon you, his momentary smile vanishing to be replaced by a melancholy expression of yearning; "I truly did wish for you."</p><p>You stand unmoving in his arms, surrendering to the commanding presence that had never once failed to turn your own thoughts to ash whenever he had looked at you in this way. "I am here."</p><p>He nods as his eyes complete their contemplation of your lips and then return to yours; "Yes. You are."</p><p>He reaches up to trace the backs of his fingers across the swell of your cheek, fascinated as always by the hint of rose that had crept into your fair skin; "And one could say better late than never, but even so, try as I might, I still can not entirely forgive your father for keeping you from me, and I grieve for the many long years we could have already shared together in mutual comfort had it not been so."</p><p>You sigh softly and lean in to his tender touch, a part of you also wishing you could have been there for him in his despair, but unable to criticise your father's reasoning, especially in light of recent events; "We can not change the past, Thranduil. No matter how much we might desire otherwise. My father did what he felt was right for both of us at the time and we must accept that. We are here together now, and we should not taint that happy chance by mourning instead for what might have been."<br/>
<br/>
He ponders your words a moment, his eyes a sea of emotion and memory you now found yourself lost in; "Always so wise."<br/>
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You raise a sceptical brow; "Hardly. In fact I miss him more than ever recently. He would have known exactly how to handle you and I would have welcomed his advice on the matter very much."</p><p>As hoped, his cheeks dimple into a smile and despite the weariness that bled from every part of his being, a flare of mischief lights up his pale eyes in an instant; "Is that so? I would say you manage to <em>handle</em> me quite well on your own, dear one. He would be very proud of you."</p><p>You hum in agreement, taking up a long strand of his white hair to run it between your fingers. "He loved you so very much, Thranduil. He spoke of you constantly, and I know had he been here, he would have changed his stance on our meeting long ago. But still, I also happen to think that he would be glad to know that we had found each other in his absence. After all, it was my father who inspired my own unswerving devotion and loyalty to you in the first place."</p><p>You let his hair slip from your hand and lift your palm up to his cheek instead; "He is also the reason I am terrified of you risking yourself for me, as I would not be able to endure the same agony that he did every single day of his life."</p><p>He frowns in confusion, his piercing gaze fixed firmly on your face; "What do you mean?"</p><p>You run your fingertips over his soft skin, mapping out the barely visible silver sheen etched into it, so faint it would go entirely unnoticed by anyone who did not know what to look for; "I mean this, sweet king.."</p><p>He stares at you perplexed for a moment longer until realisation finally hits. He tenses beneath your touch and then his eyes go wide with horror. "You <em>know</em>?"</p><p>His words tumble from his lips in an agonised whisper and the little colour he had left drains from him when he sees the answer clear in your expression.</p><p>"Of course I know. As did my father. He knew your sweet face better than his own and guessed exactly what you had done. It truly destroyed him every day to know what he had cost you, Thranduil."</p><p>He breathes deeply to steady himself and quickly averts his gaze, but you press him further before he could retreat back behind his walls of self-preservation; "I also felt your pain when you healed me; the tear in your spirit. I saw the part of you where light no longer shone."</p><p>You tilt his chin gently, bringing his troubled eyes back to yours; "Tell me about that day?"</p><p>He thinks your request over for a moment and then sighs in defeat, seeing that you had sensed his avoidance and hoping that, if he told you the story, you would be prevented from delving any deeper; "You know that we fought together in the War of Wrath?"</p><p>You nod and he continues, recalling the dread of that time far too easily; "We had been fighting for years and had only just begun to make great gains on the dark forces Morgoth had sent to assail us, forcing them to retreat back across the vast plains of Beleriand and towards his black fortress of Angband. We felt heartened, sure our costly victory of the Dark Vala would soon be at hand... but we were all of us deceived..."</p><p>He gently extricates himself from your comforting embrace to retrieve the wine and your glasses before rejoining you beside the fire; "It was a trap, you see. He had purposely led us out into the open grasslands, weakening our numbers as much as possible in the process, so he could then unleash the mightiest of all his cruel inventions, knowing that we would be vulnerable, exposed and unable to withstand the firestorm that would come for us."</p><p>He hands you a glass of wine and pours one for himself; "They hit us in the darkest hours; a host of creatures the likes of which we had never seen before, and led by one so large that he blotted out every single star in the night sky with the vastness of his wings.."</p><p>He takes a sip of his drink to control the tremble in his fingers and shakes his head at the evil that was to follow; "The screams soon rose up from all corners of our encampment. One of the beasts had landed within our midst and was burning and trampling everything in his path at leisure, roasting elf, man and dwarf alike as they slept within their tents. I didn't even have time to strap on my armour before it had reached us.."</p><p>You press closer to his side and rub his back soothingly, your voice barely a whisper; "You fought it?"</p><p>He gives you a wan smile in gratitude for your affection and nods; "Yes. Though your father had gotten there first. He had taken a company of kingsguard and was attempting to surprise the wyrm from behind to avoid its blistering fire. But it was far too cunning and intelligent to be taken so easily unawares and knew that they were there all along. It waited until they were in striking distance and then swept at them with a spiked tail as thick as a battering ram, felling them all in one powerful blow, killing some instantly and seriously injuring others, including your father, before rendering him unconscious."</p><p>He downs the remainder of his drink in a single draught and reaches for the crystal decanter on the mantel for another, his soft voice heavy with emotion; "I thought I would lose him and I just couldn't bear it. Overcome with panic, I charged towards him with only my sword and shield just as the beast turned to unleash its full fury upon us. I managed to throw Brethíl out of the path of the flame, but I was not fast enough to entirely escape it for myself."</p><p>His eyes return to yours, filled with memory and sadness; "I raised my shield to protect myself, but even elven steel can not withstand the devastating heat of dragon fire. The pain was unimaginable. An all-consuming agony that tore apart the threads of my very existence and scattered it to the wind."</p><p>He takes a deep breath, his shoulder tensing beneath your hand; "The beast laughed as I screamed in torment and I felt sure that I was about to die. With nothing left to lose and blinded by agony and rage, I charged towards it while it was so otherwise distracted by its mirth and thrust my sword clean through its belly with all the strength I could muster, taking savage delight in witnessing its violent death throes as it slid from my blade, spilling liquid fire from the wound I had put there before it finally convulsed and fell."</p><p>Hanging on his every word you gaze back at him with horrified eyes and he places his empty cup on to the mantel so he could draw you close for mutual comfort; "Using what power remained to me, I cast a glamour over my injuries to hide them and ease the pain; not wanting our forces to become disheartened by the sight of my disfigurement, nor cause your father or mine any pain in seeing what had transpired. As soon as I regained some of my strength I healed my own flesh, but as you are no doubt aware, dragon's breath in any form is one of the very few things that can also maim the spirit of an elf. And that injury I could never have healed without assistance of another."</p><p>You frown up at him, confused; "Then why did you not seek that assistance?"<br/>
<br/>
He chews on the inside of his cheek and shrugs; "Unless there had been no other alternative, I would not have trusted anyone to connect with me in such an intimate manner except for your father or my own, and I wanted neither of them to risk themselves by diminishing their strength during a war, nor did I want your father to see what had been done. I knew how much it would hurt him and how angry he would be if he ever found out about it. Then, by the time the campaign was over, it had almost become a part of me, the constant pain an ever present reminder of the true cost of war. Besides, I would not wish to burden my grief now on anyone."</p><p>You contemplate his words in silence for a moment, unable to imagine the pain and suffering he had endured nor the many terrible things he had seen in his long life. You take a steadying breath before meeting his eyes again; "Show me?"</p><p>Truly aghast at the thought, he shakes his head, fearing you to see him as he truly was; "No, dear one."</p><p>"Why not?"<br/>
<br/>
He turns away, almost seeming ashamed; "Because I would not have you look upon such horror for anything in the world."</p><p>You place your cup aside and step around him, framing his face in gentle hands before he could withdraw, your expression one of determination; "What was it you said to me? <em>There is nothing in existence that could diminish your loveliness in any way, and I will not have you thinking otherwise</em>. And I hold to the same." You trace your thumbs along his jaw; "Please, Thranduil.. You saved my father's life, and I would not be here if it weren't for you. I would know the cost of that..."</p><p>He searches your eyes for a small eternity, truly afraid of what you would think of him if he were to show you, but when he finds nothing but love reflected within their topaz depths, his courage comes to the fore; "As you wish.." </p><p>Unable to disguise his nerves, he removes your hands from his face and holds them gently in his own, his head bowed as he concentrates on the arduous task of bringing his spirit forth into his flesh.</p><p>His brow furrows with the effort and you see his jaw tense with pain as the perfect skin covering it begins to melt and tear before your very eyes, rotting away to reveal deep holes and lesions that hollowed the muscle within his cheek and exposed the entire cavity of his mouth.</p><p>Frozen to the spot, you're unable to look away from the morbid scene as the cavernous wound continues to spread and grow swiftly like wildfire, turning his left eye as white as his hair and burning away most of the flesh from the left side of his face until it comes to a sudden halt just before reaching his nose.</p><p>He exhales deeply with the strain of maintaining this physical reflection of his disfigured soul and then straightens up to afford you a better view, causing you to shake your head in numb disbelief when you see the extent of the injury he had taken out of love for your father.</p><p>Your eyes fill with renewed tears, and you slip a hand from his grasp to touch him, making him flinch in distaste when your fingertips trace gently over exposed tendons and raw flesh; caressing all that now remained of his once perfect face in utter dismay.</p><p>He stands like stone, allowing you to examine him fully at your leisure, not even protesting when your hand slips from his face and begins to unlace his shirt. You pick apart the loose ties with deft ease and then reach around him to lift the thin material up over his silver head, worried by how much worse it could possibly be.</p><p>You toss the garment aside as he emerges bare chested before you and he finds himself closing his eyes, unable to meet your gaze any longer lest his nerve fail him at the look of horror it now undoubtedly contained.</p><p>Brushing back the lengths of his hair, you turn him gently so you could see his body more clearly in the orange glow from the fire, finding more of the same scars and lesions covering the entire left hand side of his torso; from his shoulder down to his hip and along his arm to the backs of his knuckles, the fragile skin that held the rotting sinews together torn and withered.</p><p>Your tears finally spill over and you close the remaining distance between you, your shaking fingers feather light as they map out every ridge and hill of the melted flesh of his chest, feeling wasted muscle tense and flex beneath the warmth of your roaming hands; "You never need to hide, Thranduil. Not from me."</p><p>You close your eyes and press your face into the hollow of his throat and he automatically wraps his arms around you, intoxicated by the feel of you pressed so firmly against his naked skin.</p><p>You breathe deeply, consoled by the safety and protection his embrace always provided; "You asked me once why I would die for you without hesitation and how I could possibly love you when you felt that you were not worthy of such.." You tilt your chin to press your lips to the underside of his jaw; "Well now you know.."</p><p>The tense nervousness of his body relaxes slightly at hearing your sweet words and he holds you all the tighter, failing to understand how you could not be anything but repulsed by the mere sight of him.</p><p>"Do you trust me?"</p><p>Head resting atop yours, he breathes you in, never wanting to let you go; "Of course.. With my life.."</p><p>"And I you with mine." Your lips return to his jaw and you draw upon all of your power, the bittersweet memory of your father aiding you in summoning it up from deep within yourself and channelling it towards the surface. </p><p>The charged current that surrounds you suddenly thickens and intensifies and Thranduil frowns when he feels the dramatic fluctuation; "What are you..?"</p><p>He stiffens against you in realisation as your skin begins to glow and before he could stop you, you direct all of your remaining energy into the hand that still rested over his heart, forcing your very essence to bleed out from you and seep into him; replacing the agonising darkness created so long ago by dragon fire with pure and golden light.</p><p>"Caltariel, no!" He tries to tear himself from your embrace, but it was too late. With a titanic surge of power, your spirit takes over, brushing aside the control of his own much weakened aura with uncharacteristic ease and freezing him in place, leaving him unable to fight back or break free of the iron bonds in which you had now ensnared him.</p><p>
  <em>"Eru, togo laugas lín nestad enin gûr hen...."</em>
</p><p>Unused to finding himself in such a defenceless state, he begins to panic and struggles hopelessly against his invisible shackles for release, but this rare anxiety was only to be short lived when he suddenly feels your vast consciousness brushing against his mind, calming him, soothing him, cradling and protecting him in a soft cocoon of warmth and sanctuary; holding him as gently as a mother would a newborn babe.</p><p>
  <em>".... anno vellas lín enin raw hen..."</em>
</p><p>Comforted, he begins to relax, and as he does so, he notices a well of thought and emotion that did not belong to him suddenly beginning to leak through your ethereal connection, ending his futile struggles entirely as he turns his focus on them, finding himself thoroughly distracted from his helplessness by the unprecedented opportunity to see into your very soul. </p><p>
  <em>"....erio thûl lín i faer hen..."</em>
</p><p>When he had healed you, your mind had been clouded by pain, a place of darkness from which not even a wisp of thought or memory could ever hope to escape the grasp of the all-consuming agony that had held you in its firm embrace; but now, now it was as clear and inviting to him as a mountain lake, drawing him in to see who you really were beneath your walls of steel and steadfast sense of duty, wanting to show him that which he had so many times unfairly demanded of you, and offering it to him freely now should he still desire it; and stealing his breath when he eagerly accepted.</p><p>As soon as his mental barriers were lowered, a rush of love and compassion sweeps through into his veins, and he sees himself at last through your eyes; strong, indomitable, beautiful, a king worth fighting and dying for, and a person worth far more than even that, and for the first time, Thranduil knew exactly how much you had meant it when you had said you would do anything for him. It was right there for him to see, shining brightly in the very foundations of your existence, and challenging him not to doubt it any longer.</p><p>His eyes sting with the salt of tears as he comes face to face with the reality and the true depth of your devotion to him, and he realises in that moment just how far you would be willing to go for him, making him feel all the more ashamed of his earlier accusation of there being no real love in you, when it was now written there in your heart for him as clear as day.</p><p>Overcome with guilt and emotion, his silver head sinks into your shoulder and he gives himself over to you to do as you would with him, trusting you with his life and whatever remained of his heart whilst drowning himself in the deep and comforting ocean of your feelings towards him, questioning over and over again how he could ever possibly deserve them.</p><p>Sensing his yearning, your arms tighten around him for reassurance as you continue to chant, your own tears falling as you bear the endless weight of the grief and loneliness that bled back from him through your link, experiencing it as if it were your own and feeling the shards of it ripping at your heart and constricting in your throat.</p><p>The pain of it intensifies slowly, accompanied by a burning discomfort that also came from him, and it continues to build gradually until you could hardly bear it any longer. A broken sob escapes from your throat as you complete the last lines of the incantation that would heal him, and you feel all the energy of your body deplete at once, leaving you feeling weaker than you ever had in your life and strangely empty.</p><p>Your consciousness withdraws from his as the glow of your skin subsides and Thranduil lifts his head from your neck, having not even noticed the writhing sting within his flesh until it was suddenly gone.</p><p>Abruptly finding himself free of the bonds that had kept him in place, he straightens up and opens his eyes in confusion, and not a moment too soon.</p><p>You sway on the spot, teetering dangerously on the brink before collapsing into him in a state of utter exhaustion, and he moves quickly to catch you and lift your body back against his own before you could fall; "Caltariel.."</p><p>You clutch at his shoulders to steady yourself, struggling to adjust to the eerie sensation of the empty void that now resided within you, and you gasp in a starving breath to ease the dizziness swimming in your mind before finally opening your eyes to him, finding him gazing back at you with such tenderness and concern that it stole your breath. </p><p>"Why did you do that!?"<br/>
<br/>
He grips your chin tightly in his fingers, not allowing you to look away from the pale eyes that had once again regained their usual icy hue; <em>"Why!?"</em></p><p>You swallow hard, diminishing slowly under the worried scrutiny and intensity that shone clearly in their depths; "For my father .. And for you.. "</p><p>He growls in frustration and draws you firmly into his arms, wrapping you completely in a fierce and protective embrace; "It was both reckless and dangerous, especially in your already weakened state! You could have <em>killed</em> yourself!"</p><p>You relax into his hold and press your lips to the perfect and unblemished skin of his cheek, unwilling to apologise for what you had done; "I love you.."</p><p>The simple statement cuts through him like a thousand knives, deflating him and silencing him from the rest of the severe admonishment he had been about to bestow upon you, solely because he knew just how true those words were.</p><p>He buries his face into your starlight hair, torn apart by the fact that, even though he knew for certain now how much you loved him, it would never be in the same way that he had realised he loved you. Not unless he swallowed his fear and did something to change it before it became too late. "And I you."</p><p>You smile softly and rub your cheek against his for comfort, oblivious to the war he was currently raging with himself; "We finally understand one another then?"</p><p>"Not quite.."</p><p>His nose runs the length of your jaw as he lifts his head again to look at you and you tense in his arms when his breath suddenly spills warm and sweet across your face. Your heart stops, missing several beats and then several more as he lingers there for only a moment longer before he closes the last remaining distance between you and presses his lips gently to the corner of your mouth.</p><p>Your breath catches in your throat at the sweetness of the touch and you tremble, your nerves all becoming electrified at once, sparking throughout your entire body and bringing your stuttering heart back to life to race and almost break free of your breast.</p><p>He places another delicate kiss to the very edge of your lips before pulling back slightly to gauge your reaction, and you could do nothing more than stare at him in a state of shock, reminding him almost of a frightened rabbit caught in the sights of a starving wolf.</p><p>"My lord.. I .."</p><p>You trail off, not even knowing what to say to him whilst suddenly becoming very aware that you were also pressed firmly against the half naked body of your king. Your face burns with embarrassment and your panic begins to take firmer hold.</p><p>He couldn't kiss you. It was wrong. He was out of bounds and you were not allowed to feel this way about him. You had told yourself that every single time you had caught yourself looking at him in such a manner; reminded yourself that you could never let your heart be fully opened to him lest it be broken when you found that you couldn't be with him in the ways you so desperately wanted.</p><p>But you did love him.</p><p>The feelings had begun on the very first day you had met him and had only continued to grow the stronger since the attack. You had simply been denying them for what they were.<br/>
<br/>
Your eyes flick back up to his with the realisation and you find him watching you anxiously, waiting for you to either love him or reject him completely, and your heart shatters into a thousand pieces at the immense fear you see present in his pale gaze.</p><p>You reach up with shaking hands to frame his flawless face and draw him back towards you, unable to help the soft moan of longing that escapes your throat as his soft lips return to yours with a fervour matched only by his relief.</p><p>Your every sense sears with a burning flame as his mouth claims your own, flooding you with an intense heat that begins in your chest and pools down into the pit of your stomach, and you press against him all the harder, craving his touch and needing to feel his presence invading every single part of you.</p><p>He groans in response to further ignite your passions, his fingers quickly undoing the single clasp that held your bed coat together so he could slip his hands inside and grasp you by the hips to pull your inflamed body flush against his own.</p><p>You pant into his mouth when you feel the heat of his skin meld into yours and your growing desire for him becomes even more insufferable when his fingers begin to roam and explore the sensitive flesh of your sides; sinking ever lower until they slip beneath the thin material of the nightdress that was still bunched around your waist. </p><p>You squirm helplessly in his grasp, your back arching in readiness for his touch when his wandering hands come to rest dangerously close to the smooth rise of your behind. "Thranduil please.."</p><p>He murmurs in reply and deepens his kiss, capturing your bottom lip between his own while you finally give in to the urge to lose your fingers in the long lengths of his hair. You hold him in place, never wanting him to stop and submitting yourself entirely to his will when his tongue seeks entrance to your mouth at last.</p><p>Your lips part to accept him and he delves into you without hesitation, exploring and tasting every part of you in a way he could only ever have imagined up until that moment, and a way that was quickly driving him insane with desire.</p><p>The room echoes with the sound of your heavy breathing and the ragged moans of yearning, and it was all Thranduil could do to control himself from lifting you on to the table and making love to you right then and there.</p><p>He groans deeply at the notion, the thought of how you would look and feel as you shattered beneath him instantly making the growing tightness in his groin even more unbearable. He tears himself from your sweet lips before he could no longer contain the overwhelming need you were now inspiring in him and takes a step back before he entirely lost the willpower to do so.</p><p>A small noise of protest escapes you when he suddenly withdraws and you sway unsteadily on the spot as you gasp for breath, your lips swollen and puffy from his affections and looking every bit as sinful in your desire as he had always imagined you would.</p><p>His chest heaves with exertion as he struggles to regain his control and compose himself, and he takes several deep and trembling breaths to cool his ardour before even daring to look at you again.</p><p>His expression softens when he does and finds you gazing back at him fearfully as though worried you had done something wrong, and he reaches out to run his thumb tenderly over the burning skin of your cheek to reassure you, thinking he had never in his life seen anything as beautiful as you were in this moment.</p><p>"<em>Now</em> we understand one another..."<br/>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Eru, togo laugas lín nestad enin gûr hen - Eru (God), may your warmth bring healing to this heart.</p><p>anno vellas lín enin raw hen - may you give your strength to this body.</p><p>erio thûl lín i faer hen - may your breath lift this spirit.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone. I sincerely apologise for the ridiculous delay on this chapter. Various health issues have prevented me from writing much for the past few weeks, but I'm now feeling on the mend so updates should be more frequent in the future. I hope this finds you and your loved ones safe and well. Thank you all for your continued support :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
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  <p> </p>
  <p>Thranduil knew that look.</p>
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  <p>It was the one that told him each time you felt afraid that you had disappointed or upset him in some way and were worrying that he would be angry with you. It was also the expression you wore whenever he had frightened you and made you feel uncomfortable by behaving too intimately with you.</p>
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  <p>He frowns, his thumb continuing to brush lightly over the rise of your cheek; but rather than soothe you, his tender touch only seems to make you all the more terrified, and Thranduil knew for certain then that it was the latter which truly troubled you now.</p>
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  <p>Eyes of topaz widen, and even though the love of him remained, the darkness of desire begins to recede rapidly from their crystalline depths, and he witnesses the exact moment your clarity of thought returns to you; sees it vividly in the ocean blue of your irises and the guilt that etches itself on to your sweet face.</p>
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  <p>Fearing that you would withdraw back behind your impenetrable walls of duty and close off from him for good, he quickly narrows the small distance he had placed between you and cradles your head in his hands, urging you to look at him; "It's all right, my darling.."</p>
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  <p>Your eyes frantically move between both of his, filled with panic; "I..." You swallow with difficulty, trying to choke out the words past the anxiety forming in your chest; "...We should not have done that.."</p>
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  <p>He shushes you tenderly, his voice soft and soothing; "Yes we should..."</p>
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  <p>Drawing you closer, he takes in every detail of you; eyes of winter gazing down upon you as though he still could not quite believe that you were real; "In fact, I have wanted to do so since first I saw you..." His thumb sweeps across your skin to trace the curve of your mouth and you tremble at the touch; an almost imperceptible reaction that instantly reignited the flames that he had sought so desperately to cool. "You have no idea what you do to me, Caltariel.."</p>
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  <p>You close your eyes against the pain beginning to blossom in the depths of your heart whilst knowing deep down that there would be no escaping it now no matter what you did; "Thranduil, please... You should not think or speak of me in this manner.. You are my king..."</p>
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  <p>He murmurs in agreement and rests his brow against yours, wondering why you'd ever think that would change anything; "And what is a king besides a being of flesh and blood like any other creature, dear one? I feel the same sorrow, anger, fear, desire..." taking your hand in his, he presses it to his chest, "....love..."</p>
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  <p>The last word bleeds into your skin with the warmth of his breath as, unable to resist temptation any longer, he returns his lips to yours, scattering your every thought into nothingness with the urgency of his kiss.</p>
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  <p>All the protests that had been on the tip of your tongue die the instant he touches you and your weary spirit rejoices; betraying you and destroying the last of your free will in a final, desperate attempt to respond to the call of his own.</p>
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  <p>For one moment more, you forget all the reasons you had given yourself for not becoming attached to him in this way and instead surrender to the yearning to experience his love just once in your life before it all came crashing down around you in the full harshness of reality. </p>
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  <p>Your body moulds itself to his, urging him to hold you closer, needing him to delay the inevitable and save you from the chasm of grief that was opening up in your heart if only for a few seconds longer; a silent request to which he instantly responds, oblivious to your internal suffering as he pulls you into the safe embrace you were coming to crave and cherish more than any other.</p>
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  <p>A small eternity loses itself there in his arms and upon your willing submission, Thranduil soon forgoes the burning need for gratification in search of something deeper, something far more meaningful; a love he had always hungered for and longed to find now with you. He pours all the emotions he'd felt over these past days into his each and every touch, wanting you to know, wanting you to realise just how much you meant to him and praying you would not forsake him for it as all else had done.</p>
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  <p>For the briefest and most fleeting of moments he finds what he had been searching for there in your kiss; finds his peace just within reach, and feels the hollow emptiness in his heart made whole with the almost desperate affection that bled from every part of your being. But then, as quickly as he had felt it, it was taken from him.</p>
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  <p>The blissful warmth recedes and he frowns when he senses a sudden stab of pain and the taste of salt on his tongue. Pulling back, he opens his eyes only to find your cheeks wet with tears and a look of such agony in your expression that it tore at his soul just to see it.</p>
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  <p>His frown deepens and he reaches out to thumb away the moisture clinging to your pale skin, confused and concerned by the palpable waves of torment emanating from every part of your being; "Why do you cry, dear one?"</p>
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  <p>Lost for words, you shake your head and try to take a step back from him, needing to get away before the situation became worse than it was already; but his hold on you tightens almost immediately, preventing you from moving so much as inch; "Don't do that.. Talk to me.."</p>
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  <p>Too weak and exhausted to fight him, you stand rigid and defeated in his arms instead, your eyes downcast and anywhere but on him; "I can not stay here ... I can not do this with you.."</p>
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  <p>Firm but gentle fingers find your chin and tilt your eyes back to his own; "Yes you can..."</p>
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  <p>Trapped and unable to look away from the source of all the heartache that was now beginning to cripple you, you withdraw into yourself to try and remain in control of the well of emotions screaming to be let loose from the gaping wound in your chest; "No ... This is wrong, Thranduil.."</p>
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  <p>He looks down upon you for a long moment, utterly perplexed by your rapid change in behaviour and the great hurt he sensed from you; and feeling completely powerless to prevent the visible retreat he was now witnessing before his very eyes; "You do not favour me or feel as I do then?"</p>
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  <p>You swallow hard, maintaining your loose grasp on composure with great difficulty; "It does not matter how I feel."</p>
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  <p>"It matters to me!"</p>
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  <p>"Well, it shouldn't! You belong to another and anything I feel is therefore irrelevant!" The dam inside your chest finally crumbles and for the very first time Thranduil sees a reflection of judgement there in your eyes. As you weakly push to break loose of his embrace, he releases you as though burned; this one thing above all else shattering him entirely and turning his heart to dust. </p>
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  <p>"I can not play any further part in the betrayal of such a sacred oath, Thranduil... and nor should you ever wish for me to do so."</p>
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  <p>Torment lines his fair face and his hurt visibly increases as you finally take a step back from him, the separation clearly paining him as much as it was you. </p>
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  <p>"Then, you do not know?"</p>
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  <p>"Know what?" Unable to bear the agony in his eyes, you dismiss his words with a flick of your hand and turn away to grasp at the mantel, your heart fracturing even further. And yet, despite your accusatory tone, you still couldn't blame him entirely for what had been done. You had always known his position to be a lonely one, and after everything he had told you that evening, you had come to realise just how excruciating that had been for him. You understood completely why he wanted and needed to feel close to someone and you were only too happy to give him the affection and companionship he had so desperately sought. However, there was a line; a boundry in how far you could take that intimacy and even though you had already tested its limits many times in your blossoming relationship, in a moment of madness, he had finally crossed it. And even more despicable was the fact you had not only allowed him to, you had encouraged it.</p>
</div><div><p>You had kissed your king.</p>
<p></p><div><p>There was no escaping it. You had kissed him and he had kissed you and the more you thought about it the worse it became until you wondered if you would suffocate on the guilt and shame that was now rising up like a boiling wave inside of you.</p></div><div><p>All of those times you had reprimanded yourself when you had caught yourself admiring him; all those times you had promised yourself that you would never think of him that way; promised that you would ignore everything your heart was telling you because the knowledge it contained had come too late; it had all been for nothing. </p></div><div><p>The many lies you had told to try and convince yourself that the bond that you felt when you had first laid eyes on him was all in your mind had finally come back to haunt you with the very same result you had wanted so desperately to avoid. And it was the one that was staring you in the face right now, mocking you, tormenting you, challenging you to deny the link between you and he any longer.</p></div><div><p>Your father's face swims behind your vision and your pain intensifies when you wonder if he had guessed from the very start what would happen and that was why he'd really kept you away from court. Your tears finally spill over again with the thought, the crystal droplets falling heavy and fast on to the pale sandstone at your feet, only to evaporate instantly in the warmth from the fire, and you could do nothing other than finally give in to them and the abject misery now crushing at your soul.</p></div></div><div>
  <p>This burden of grief finally destroys the last of your strength and your fingers slip from the mantle as you fall to your knees before the grate, and Thranduil immediately rushes forward to aid you, only to be stopped dead in place by a look of pure betrayal; "Was it not enough for you to have me by your side as your friend? Was it not enough to know that you will always and forever have my devotion?"</p>
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  <p>"Of course it was enough!"</p>
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  <p>You flinch at his impassioned outburst and the helpless quality that now resided within his voice, and he pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes deeply in an effort to calm himself and soften his tone; "You have always been and will always be enough! In <em>any</em> capacity! But I can not deny that if there is even the slightest possibility that we could ever have something more, then I will not hesitate to take that chance!"</p>
</div><div><p>You rock yourself for comfort as you gaze at him through endless tears; "So you will add my heart to your long list of impossible demands, only with the firm intention of breaking it utterly when you eventually sail west to be reunited with her!?"</p>
<p></p><div><p>Thranduil gazes at you stunned; "I would never demand your heart, Caltariel. I was trying to offer you mine!"</p></div><div><p>"And by what right can you do such a thing!?" Your voice breaks and you almost choke on the sob that rises unbidden from the very depths of your chest. A sharp pain erupts there beneath your ribs and you clutch at it desperately as you continue to fall apart before his very eyes.</p></div><div><p>You truly did not know.</p></div><div><p>He had always assumed that most within his halls were aware of the true cause of his pain; after all there had been many beside him on that fateful day. But now it would appear that his captains had remained far more silent on this matter than he had given them credit for, and it had left him looking like such a fool.</p>
<p></p><div><p>Knowing that it would only serve to cause you even greater distress, Thranduil mightily resists the urge to comfort you, even though your tears were more unbearable to him than anything else he had ever witnessed in his long life. Instead, he remains rooted to the spot, feeling lost and helpless as he tries to think of a way to salvage the growing distance between you before it became irreparable.</p></div></div><div><p>When you had merged your spirit with his to heal him, he had been made truly aware of your love for him for the very first time, but you had still somehow managed to keep the exact nature of it hidden from him, and he had been so enraptured by the chance to connect with you on such a profound level that he had not pried any further and had simply taken only that which you had so freely offered. </p></div><div><p>However, it was that very experience of joining with you that had finally forced him to face up to the one thing he had been putting off out of fear alone, and he had gathered together all that was left of his courage to kiss you, all the while genuinely believing that he was alone in feeling the way he did and that the bond between you existed only in his own imagination.</p></div><div><p>Still, he had thought it only fair and right that you should know the whole truth after he had so many times demanded it of you, and despite the possible ramifications, he had longed to give you something real of himself before it became too late and you found someone else to share your affection with.</p></div><div><p>Of course, he had fully expected you to reject him; had never thought for one moment that you could already be harbouring any deeper feelings for him behind your many walls and your iron clad sense of duty to him as king. But now; now he knew just how wrong he had been.</p></div><div><p>The rejection hadn't come, and the undoubted agony and emptiness he had prepared himself to face had only arrived because of ignorance and not because of any lack of reciprocation on your part. How could he have been so blind?</p></div><div><p>Determined to know the truth of the matter, Thranduil re-examines all of the cherished moments he had spent with you so far, looking at them from a new perspective; the way your heart would stutter and race whenever he came near you or touched you, the way your face would flush if he so much as looked at you slightly longer than was necessary, and the way your aura would electrify and flare in his presence, giving your soft skin the faintest golden glow.</p></div><div><p>He had always thought these endearing reactions were due to nerves and the fact that you had always seemed quite shy around him. He had even played on them for his own amusement. But now he wondered if there was something more.</p></div><div><p>He silently curses himself, questioning yet again why he could never do anything in the proper fashion when it came to you, and asks himself for the thousandth time what it was about you that turned him into such a simpleton when he had never struggled to make his innermost thoughts or feelings known to anyone before. </p></div><div><p>He releases a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding and squares his shoulders, unable to stand your heartache for a moment longer. Especially if it might be needless and all for naught.</p></div><div><p>Vowing to make things right and do what he should have done the night of the festivities, he gathers together his courage and prepares himself for the pain he knew he would have to suffer to set your heart at rest once and for all; a pain he would suffer gladly if it meant you would find some sort of peace.</p></div><div><p>"Are you always going to be so mistaken?"</p></div><div><p>He steps up behind you on silent feet, his proximity only causing your quiet sounds of devastation to become more anguished. "Do you really think so little of me that you believe I would have done such a thing with you if it was as you say? Do you truly think, as flawed as I am, that I'm still the kind of person to break a solemn vow even if I should secretly desire it?"</p></div><div><p>He pauses a small distance from you, not wanting to push you for more just yet; "After these past days and all we have suffered together, is there still a single part of you that imagines that I could ever intentionally harm you in any way or better yet, forsake you by casting you aside for another?" He sighs, his velvet tones soft and soothing; "No, dear one. If it was as you say, I would have admired you from afar and borne these feelings in tormented silence for all eternity. At least until all the world perished in ash along with my aching heart." </p></div><div><p>He finally sinks down beside you and pulls you into his arms, ignoring your weakened attempts to push him away; "It is not as you say.." His hold tightens, forcing you to surrender to his embrace, "..For I am no longer wed.."</p></div><div><p>* *</p></div><div>
<p></p><div><p>Somewhere in the night, a tawny owl hoots; it's haunting call echoing out across the forest floor.</p></div><div><p>A moment later, another answers, this time much closer, and Faelyn smiles as he readies himself.</p></div><div><p>They had company.</p></div><div><p>Pressing himself flat against the bough of a beech tree, he nocks an arrow and waits patiently for the approaching party to show themselves, his keen eyes piercing the gloom for any other sign of danger.</p></div><div><p>Sure enough, before two minutes had passed, the sound of swift footsteps reaches his ears and he watches as a cloaked figure comes scurrying into sight through the deepening shadows.</p></div><div><p>Fingers tightening on his bow, Faelyn holds his breath as the unknown person pauses directly beneath the tree in which he was hiding and then cautiously scans the surrounding darkness before slipping behind the large boulder at the base of the ancient trunk.</p></div><div><p>As soon as the figure had disappeared, the wood-elf gestures towards a knarly oak at the opposite side of the glade and immediately a second shadow drops silently from the branches to follow in quick pursuit of their guest.</p></div><div><p>Once the second figure had likewised vanished, Faelyn leans back against a thick branch to wait, his eyes never once leaving the inconspicuous hollow behind the granite.</p></div><div><p>The stillness of the forest settles in all around him, and the long minutes pass by in a silence that was only broken by the almost imperceptible beating of his heart; but still Faelyn did not waver and continued to remain alert, wondering if his suspicions would be proved accurate.</p></div><div><p>Sure enough, a few moments later, a soft screech and the sound of fluttering comes from the chasm below and Faelyn tenses in anticipation.</p></div><div><p>It was just as he'd thought.</p></div><div><p>The wood-elf draws back his arrow as a black falcon bursts forth from the crevice, and he tracks it almost lazily as it moves out into the open.</p></div><div><p>The moon appears from behind a cloud and the creature beats its wings even faster to gain enough altitude to break free of the canopy, but before it could do so, the bowstring twangs, sending the bird tumbling from the sky without so much as a shriek to land in the mossy carpet beyond the glade.</p></div><div><p>With a satisfied smile, Faelyn shoulders his bow and continues to wait. A few minutes later the cloaked figure reappears and hurries off into the night; oblivious to the silent shadow that followed from behind.</p></div><div><p>As soon as they had passed out of hearing, Faelyn gracefully swings himself down from the branch and stalks off in the direction of the fallen bird, barely paying any attention to the numerous dark shapes now coming alive from the surrounding woodland.</p></div><div><p>Aided by the intermittent moonlight, it did not take the sharp-eyed elf long to find his shaft, and he crouches down to examine his kill while waiting for the others to join him.</p></div><div><p>As soon as they had gathered around, he unties the tiny, leather pouch attached to the bird's leg and opens it to pull out the small scroll of parchment that had been tucked neatly inside.</p></div><div><p>"What does it say, brother?"</p></div><div><p>Faelyn holds the scrap of paper into the soft light for all to see;</p></div><div><p><em>When the Sun fades to longest rest, the Stag will join her in the West. </em></p></div><div><p>"What does that mean?"</p></div><div><p>Faelyn frowns as he contemplates the words, the answer already clear; "It means they intend to kill him on winter solstice."</p></div></div></div>
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